Distorted: The 16th Hunger Games
by TheAmazingJAJ
Summary: Speak with your words, and your message may be distorted; Speak with your actions, and you'll leave no doubt. This year's Games will be more twisted than ever, thanks to a vicious Gamemaker, looking to cement his place in history. Will our tributes make it through intact, or will their intentions become distorted?
1. Visions of Nightmares

**Selena Arthtome, 27, Assistant Gamemaker**

All the world's a game, and she's just one of the pieces. Or so they say. But if she's a piece, she'll slowly make her way to becoming the most powerful of them all.

She's seen game makers crash and burn. The fourteenth, the ninth, the seventh, all examples of game makers who didn't keep their spots on top after their unfortunate mistakes. When you're the organizer of Panem's largest game, there is _no_ room for failure. But she won't fail.

She's currently carting around coffee for game makers, but someday, she'll be organizing games with the rest of them. They'll never see it coming. Who would? The woman who's practically a servant to them would never be seen as a threat for the greatest job in Panem. Especially with the egos of some of the game makers.

But she has plans up her sleeve. Just one slip, and she'll pounce on a job and never let it go. She's always been artistic, always able to see the bigger picture, and she'll get her chance. The current game maker's eccentric. Hiram has erratic movements and a vicious temper, but the man makes twisted, complicated, beautiful Games that the public devours like bread from District Nine. He's fired his fellow game makers before because they forgot to ask him about a decision in the arena. Even President Ember gets nervous around the man, each moment speaking to him like prodding a ticking bomb. If you're not careful, you might come another step closer to setting it off.

But she's fine with dodging burning coffee from his mug for now. She has plans. Big ones. And when she gets her chance, she'll become the greatest one of them all. She enjoys the power of holding lives in her hands, and the rewards that come with the job are immense. She'll be ready to start playing this game of skill anytime.

What else can you expect from Selena Arthtome?

 **Rewrote this chapter because it really really sucked. I might rewrite it again, but I like it for now. Paints a different perspective on our lovely game maker, don't you think?**

 **By the way, this is an SYOT if you're new. Have fun, and if you want to see well written chapters, go towards the interviews and find your way to my favourite ones. I think the bloodbath's a great example of my writing!**


	2. District 3 Reapings: Broken Youth

**Lincoln Serket, 13, District 3 Male**

"Get out of my way!" I yelled as I pushed the smaller boy out of my path. It was almost the end of the school day, and I didn't need a little runt to get in my way before I got home. After all, those hours were the only time I would have to myself alone before my father got home, and if the house wasn't perfect, I'd be in for it. I walked out of the school doors and hurried home, hoping to get there early so that I could finish my homework after chores. After all, even though reaping day was tomorrow, school would still go on, and in the very likely case I wasn't reaped, my history assignment wouldn't write itself. As I walked home, the barking of a dog caught my ears, and I turned my head to see a recently abandoned home, where the dog was walking around the house. I looked up into the second story, where you could see through a window a poster with the table of elements on it plastered to the back of the wall in one of the rooms. _That was Pollux's…_

I shook my head clear of my memories and kept walking to my house, determined to get there quickly. As I got closer to my house, I realized that I had dropped my key, which I kept in my pocket. I turned around and saw it in the hands of a thin girl wearing a top hat.

"Hello, fine sir. Would you like to see some magic?" I shook my head and tried to grab the key. The girl laughed, and made the key _disappear_ , into thin air.

"Now, now, now! Let's not get too hasty, shall we?" She reached into her pocket and grabbed a deck of cards.

"Well, would you like to see some magic?"

"No, thank you," I said, still looking for the key. Could it be on the ground? Or did she hide it on herself?

"Just one trick!" she pleaded, looking sorrowfully at me.

"Fine," I groaned, waiting for her to start. "As long as you give me my house key back." The girl grinned and shuffled her deck.

"Pick a card, any card!" I reached in and grabbed the Jack of Hearts.

"Well, well well!" She said, looking mysteriously at me. "So, this card symbolizes that you're thirteen, and the hearts mean you have blood on your hands. But, if I switch the card," and she picked a random one from the deck, "We can see it all started when you were ten, and this is the ten of spades, the black symbolizing your corruption."

"W-wh-what?" I stuttered, grabbing my key and moving away from the girl, who was starting to look worried.

"I don't have blood on my hands! How can you know - I mean possibly think that?" Then, I bolted, throwing the card on the ground and running for the safety of home.

"It's just a trick!" she yelled at me, disappointed. "I was just going to make them disappear!"

I ignored her, running for the safety of home. Running, from anywhere but there.

After five more minutes, I reached my home and took out the key from my sweaty hands to open the door. Then, I opened the door and walked inside the house, hanging up my bag on one of the hooks, and taking off my shoes before taking a mop out of the closet. The house couldn't clean itself, so that job was left to me.

I put the mop back in the closet, happily looking at the clean floors. Now, I could get a bit of studying while the Meatloaf cooked. I walked into my room, and grabbed my books. But as I did, I saw something out of place: the picture of my mother had fallen on the floor from my desk, evidently thrown off by someone. I picked it up, and saw that on the unbroken glass there was a small, dried bloodstain. _Father was at it again…_

I touched the picture, looking at my mother, Codi Webber-Serket. I didn't remember her face, as I had just been an infant when she died. My father didn't grieve, however, as he had never truly loved her- or so he told me. I wiped off the blood and grabbed my books before looking into my father's room, to see if he had done what I suspected. Inside was a catastrophe of clothes, books, and rubber gloves, all strewn along the floor.

I gave a sigh, and putting my books on the floor, starting cleaning up the room. My father, Sophocles, had a vicious temper, and he took it out on my and his belongings, leaving me to pick up the pieces.

I took out the meatloaf and placed it on the kitchen table, waiting for it to cool. Father wasn't home from his job as a janitor at the Clemico Inc Office Building yet, but he wasn't due to be back for another five minutes, and he liked things to be on time and ready for him. I set the table, and waited for Father to be home. Sure enough, I heard the doorknob turn and Father enter the house five minutes later.

"You have the meatloaf ready yet, boy?" I nodded my head and gestured to the meatloaf, cooled off enough to be able to eat. Father took a large helping of it, and chewed it quietly, while I sat at the table, waiting for him to be finished. Father never liked me eating at the same time as him as he wanted full control of the meal, so I was forced to wait until he was finished before I could take a helping and eat quietly as he turned on the TV.

"Hey, Lincoln! There's been another murder victim by The Collector! Man, he sure does get around!" He gave a long, unsettling laugh, and I shivered. The Collector had been terrorizing the District of Three ever since I was born, taking victims every couple of days. He had never been caught, although he was the most wanted criminal in all of Three. He had been dubbed the Collector because he didn't discriminate in his victims, killing off all kinds of races, ages, genders, religions, and so on.

I finished eating and cleaned up the table before doing the dishes. After I was done, I headed to my room.

"Father, do we have to go out tonight? I need to know, as I got some homework tonight." I paused, waiting for his response.

"Nah, we don't have to go tonight. Besides, tomorrow's the Reaping. You need your beauty rest, boy, so you can be spick and span for your big day."

"Got it!", I replied, knowing that father knew there was no way I'd be reaped, and heading to my room, finally getting the chance to crack open my books.

 _Now, where was that Battle of New York again?_

 **Mira Bevoire, 16, District 3 Female**

I stared at the running boy, wondering how I could have possibly spooked him. I mean, all I did was show him a trick! He looked around thirteen, and the blood on his hands was just because everyone cuts themselves! I wouldn't have even said anything about the second card, but he looked interested enough for me to make up another story.

"Well, there goes another chance at some money," I said to myself, walking back to my spot on the sidewalk. I had laid a piece of cardboard out, and sat there while I waited for other people to walk past me, so I could show them my magic tricks, hoping that one of them would like them enough to tip me.

I took off my top hat, looking to see how much money I had made today. After removing a false top in the hat, I took out my money, and counted $20 and 35 cents.

"Looks like it's a Cake Day!" I said, grinning as I walked up the street to the downtown area. I had been on the streets for two years now, so I was pretty good at budgeting my small amounts of money, but with the Reaping tomorrow, I decided today would be a better day than tomorrow to treat myself. After all, with all of the tesserae I took in a year, I might not get the chance tomorrow.

I walked to the nearby bakery, and entered the back door. The baker didn't like street people coming in the front and scaring off potential customers, but he was always OK with me coming in the back and waiting. Soon enough, he entered, and saw me waiting at the back.

"And how is our Mira today?" he asked, smiling at me.

"It's a Cake Day!" I grinned, happy that he was in a good mood. "Could I have the usual?" He nodded, and walked to the counter where he kept leftover slices. I shivered when he went near the fire, but relaxed when he came back. I hated fires.

"We had a birthday party canceled today, so I've got a rich chocolate slice for you." I grinned again, and handed over the $4.50. He took the money, and handed me the cake, wrapped up in a newspaper that proclaimed: _The Collector claims another victim! Police in shock as grieving family demands justice!_ I took the cake, and waved goodbye as I headed out the door.

"One more thing, Mira. Your mother came in today." I stopped at the door, holding my top hat in one hand and the cake in the other, trying to comprehend what he had just said.

"Mira? Did you hear me? I said that your mother, Jacqueline, stopped by the bakery today."

I turned around. "I hardly even know her. She's probably forgotten me already, after the divorce and Dad getting custody of me…"

The baker looked pitifully at me. "I said that you come here routinely, and she's going to come tomorrow after the reaping to see if you're here. You could have a family again… "

I tentatively looked up. A family? I didn't think that could be possible after Dad died while making my birthday cake on my 14th Birthday, a chocolate cake. Somehow, the oven started leaking gas, and the kitchen caught on fire. Dad died of smoke inhalation, and I was tossed into the streets, my home a smoking piece of rubble, with nothing but the top hat and the deck of cards I had brought outside while waiting for Dad to make the cake. They were all I had left of him. My mother had left him many years earlier when I was about five, but he had gotten custody of me, and I grew up without her, never thinking that I would see her again.

"T-t-t-tomorrow?" I stuttered, looking hopefully into the baker's eyes. He nodded gently and patted my back.

"You can come in the front door to see her at 3:00, after the reaping."

"Thank you!" I cried, and I rushed out the door in glee. I could have a family again, after my years on the streets. Just one reaping and my life could take a turn for the better…

I hurried to the reaping, the chocolate cake now a memory, hoping that I could spot my mother in the crowd of adults that would be at the back. Would she have kids? Would she be married? Or would she be single, and welcome me back with open arms, letting us live together happily. These thoughts crowded my mind as I got checked in by a peacekeeper, and walked to the crowded 16-Year-Old section. Some girls looked scornfully at my attire, from my ripped T-shirt and Jeans to my black Top Hat, but I didn't care. Instead, I turned my attention to the stage as our Escort, a woman named Maureena, walked daintily onto the stage and started the mandatory speech on the Treaty of Treason. I didn't pay much attention, trying to wait patiently through the reapings, waiting for the chance to run to the bakery and wait for my mother to find me. But then, fate threw a wrench in my plans. Something that I didn't predict, and was genuinely surprised to hear coming from Maureena.

"Mira Bevoire! Would you please come up onto the stage!"

 **Lincoln Serket, 13, District 3 Male**

I watched in surprise as Maureena waited for the girl in the top hat, Mira, to come up onto the stage. It was the same one last night, with her creepy guess at my past leaving me awake for the whole night. But how could she have possibly known? Did she see me do it? I shook my head free of my worries. After all, she was basically walking into her own tomb. The Games had only brought home one Victor for Three, a woman named Kaitlynn Sparkes, who had made it out of the arena after the two remaining Careers prematurely decided she was dead, as they heard a cannon that was actually from the Boy from Six, and killed each other in their quest to win. So, my secret would lie with her, saving me from my own mistakes. But then, Maureena called for attention and started to pull out the slip for the boys. Most of the kids around me leaned forward anxiously, hoping against hope that it wouldn't be their name in the white-gloved hands of Maureena, but I relaxed. I had never had to take tesserae, thanks to the generous salary my Father, Sophocles got from his job as a janitor, so my odds of getting picked were almost zero.

But, as Maureena picked out the slip and unfolded it, I couldn't help but get a little tense. There was still a couple slips in there with my name on it, and you never knew…

"Lincoln Serket!" Maureena cried, beaming at the crowd. My jaw dropped in shock, and I robotically started walking forward to the stage, the girl from last night looking surprised at me from behind Maureena. Maureena waited for me to get up, and smiled at the crowd.

"Do you have any words, young man?" I looked at the crowd and saw my father shaking his head at me. He didn't want me to speak.

"Yes, actually, I do", I said, looking into the crowd.

"You know how the Collector has been terrorizing the District?" I said, looking into the crowd. My father was violently shaking his head, but I ignored him. I was heading off to die anyway. It was time to get out from under his grasp.

"I know who that man is. Yes, I do, and I'll tell you right now!" I said, pointing to my father. "Sophocles Serket might seem like a mild-mannered man, going around, minding his own business, but in reality, he is a twisted psychopath who murders victims in our district and keeps parts of them as specimens in our freezer. You can check there, as he had no idea that I'd be reaped. But now, you'll finally be free of his twisted clutches!" The crowd gasped in shock, and turned to the spot where I had pointed, to find an empty space where my Father had stood. Then, a woman screamed, and the place turned into chaos, people running around in panic, trying to find a place to hide. A peacekeeper grabbed me and Mira, and ushered us into our rooms quickly, to get us out of the eye of the public. As he locked the door on mine, I noticed a shadow behind the curtain.

"You can come out now, _Sophocles,_ " I said, looking at my father.

"You just couldn't keep it to yourself, couldn't you?" he said, scornfully looking at me. "I raised you to be my heir, the next Collector! You could have had all of this power, the power of _fear itself,_ enslaving the District to their own fears of you - and me. But, you had to go and ruin it all, didn't you, boy," he said.

"I'm tired of being under your distorted version of power. Do you think that I like killing the way you do? The District deserves to be free of you, and if I didn't have to go to the games, I'd spit on your grave."

"You forget, boy, that you were the one to murder your sickly little friend. What was his name again? Pollux? I remember you hacking into his shriveled body. Forget it, son. You'll never be free of my legacy. I raised you like this, bringing you with me, having you kill others, _preparing_ you for your future role as the Collector. It's your _destiny._ "

"Have I not just sealed your fate?" I said, pointing to the door. "All it takes is one cry for help, and you'll be taken away to jail, where _pigs like you_ belong."

"You must think so highly of yourself, boy. I can leave like a shadow, hiding and vanishing at my own will. You'll never stop me, and remember I could just as easily murder you as I did your mother. She was such a pathetic little thing. I barely even remember her name!"

 **Mira Bevoire, 16, District 3 Female**

I slipped out of the room, past the snoring peacekeeper and to Lincoln. I wanted to talk to him about last night, and how I had accidentally guessed his - or his father's secret.

I put my top hat on my head and carried a heavy book I found in my room in the other. The Collector had vanished in the ceremony, and if he was here, he wouldn't think twice about killing me.

As I walked to the door of where Lincoln was, I heard a piercing scream and a yell of rage echoing through the halls. I peeked inside the door, and saw a man, with a knife in hand, hacking at Lincoln. Lincoln had fallen silent, but the man was still hacking away, obviously carried away in rage.

"You never thought that I brought a knife in here, did you boy? I always told you to be prepared, but you didn't listen to your old man - just like you didn't when you blabbed to the whole district my identity. I'll kill you, and I'll start again. I don't need you anymore, especially as you've proven yourself to be weak. Maybe, I'll go to another District - one that hasn't heard of me yet. Ooh, but they will. They will know the wrath of Sophocles Serket!"

Without thinking, I ran in and whacked the man as hard as I could over the head. He collapsed and fell on the floor. I sank to the floor as well, my head hurting with all of the thoughts rushing through it. What did I just do? I was cowardly by nature, but for some reason, had knocked unconscious the most dangerous man in District Three, maybe even in all of Panem!

Then, I heard a slight groan and rushed over to Lincoln. His eyes were fluttering, and his dark skin was turning surprisingly pale.

"Lincoln? Are you OK?" I said, looking at him with worry. He groaned again, and tried to raise his hand.

"Is…. he….. Gone…. Now?" he managed to gasp out.

"Yes, he is," I said, looking sorrowfully at Lincoln's face.

"You're going to a place where no one can ever hurt you again, especially not your father." Lincoln tried to smile but burst into a fit of coughing.

"Quiet now, it's going to be OK," I said to Lincoln, and he slowly closed his eyes, and let out one more gasp before falling silent, his chest not moving. Lincoln Serket, a mere thirteen year old, was dead.

I screamed with sorrow, and sadness for the boy who never got the chance to be free from his father. As peacekeepers rushed into the room, and handcuffed the unconscious Sophocles, I screamed and started weeping for Lincoln. At least he didn't have to go through the games. He would never have to follow in the footsteps of his father again.

 **Hello guys! This is a really deep chapter, and as you can tell, Lincoln is our first tribute dead, killed by the monster that is Sophocles. Sophocles will now be rotting in jail, and Lincoln will never have to see him again. Mira, since you didn't die immediately, you didn't get as much as Lincoln did, but you'll get your fair share in the chapters to come.**

 **Obituary: Lincoln Serket - 25th**

 _Lincoln, you were my first submission, and that means you will be close to my heart. When I read your submission form, I really fell in love with your story, and hope you lived up to AmericanPI's expectations. I didn't want to show you having to kill anyone with your father under the threat of death, as I wanted it to be a surprise for the reaping when you revealed the identity of The Collector to the district, so you didn't have to suffer through that. Thank you to AmericanPI for a great submission, and good luck with Cornelia. I will make up the next District 3 Male myself, as he will be a bloodbath for sure._

 **Thanks to 66samvr for submitting the resident magician, Mira, and if she survives the games, she'll get to reunite with Jacqueline. You might have wanted her a little more cowardly, but I made her more confident so that she could knock Sophocles unconscious. Well, she'll have a bit of an advantage with that under her belt! If anyone wants to submit to the story, check my profile for the form, and submit your own tribute! I might still have a couple of more short prologue chapters on the first couple of days to keep interest going, so those could fall in between this reaping and other reapings. Also, other reapings will likely be not as long as this, as we had a tribute die here, and I needed to make this chapter long in order to do his storyline properly. Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ.**


	3. District 6 Reapings: Like Cats and Dogs

**Isa James, 15, District 6 Female**

"May the District Six Community Watch come to order!" I cried, smiling at the rest of my fellow members, all of us eager to get out there and snitch on anyone stupid enough to break the law in our neighbourhood. District 6 might have had a lot of morphling addicts, but we didn't pay attention to those. They were the scum of the district, and we didn't have to waste our time watching them vomit or pass out before taking another dose of morphling.. We watched for _real_ crimes, like robbery, assault, and (horror of horrors!) underage drinking.

"Here, here!" My fellow members cried, most of them reaching for the nine Chocolate Ice cream (Vanilla was a despicable flavour, so we used chocolate instead) Banana Split Bombes I had laid out on the counter. My family was rich, so we had our own Chef, and I always used him for our meetings. But, we all quickly finished those little delights, as we were ready to get down to life's one true pleasure: snitching.

"OK, guys!" I called as we had finished the splits and had put our dishes in the counter - we weren't savages like other members of District Six - and sat back down, waiting for our assignments.

"Jennisa and Kallie, you'll do a routine check down Palace Avenue and Inruynes Crescent, while Daisy, Emilia, and Stephanie, you'll be doing a routine check of Waitex Market. Meanwhile, Natalie, Olivia, Molly and I will be focusing on our true objective: Tony Dongall!"

The other girls hissed in disgust, and all turned to spit at the tattered photograph we had taken of him at his worst: with his Greasy Brown hair, dirty, dark caramel skin, and his weird, one black, one brown, eyes. He was the bane of our existence and the reason that the D6CW had come into effect.

After Tony had mocked me in our school for my wealth and the _dignified_ way I carried myself around the school, I had formed the D6CW with my other richer classmates, and we all were very enthusiastic about it, especially about finding something illegal that Tony had done. We hadn't found any evidence of him doing any illegal activities, but today was another day!

As we marched outside, ready to start our very important missions, I heard someone rattling the side door, and turned to see my sister, Briar.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, my hands on my hips. Briar had happily moved out two years ago and rented a penthouse in the richer part of the downtown District 6, and she didn't visit much

"As a matter of fact, I've come to see Mom and Dad, Sis." she said.

"Natalie, Olivia, and Molly, you guys go ahead," I said, and turned back to Briar after they had left in search of Tony.

"Dad and Mom are both at the shareholders meeting for Steelezcorp. They might be back tonight, but late."

"Whatever. I'll just phone them later," Briar said, turning around and walking back to the car she had parked in our driveway. I waved sarcastically goodbye, and then turned to follow Natalie, Olivia, and Molly.

We knew where Tony was likely to be: in an old, rundown shack that he had found some time, and which he had claimed for himself and his lowlife friends. The D6CW had tried entering it on suspicions of underage drinking and petty theft, but Tony had locked it up, and we couldn't break the law by breaking one of the grimy windows, so we had to resort to spying in order to watch his activities.

As I walked towards the shack, I saw Natalie running back, her face with a large grin on it. I could see that behind her, Olivia and Molly were panting to keep up, but Natalie was faster than both of them, and made it to me first.

"Isa! Isa! You'll never guess what we saw!" Natalie panted, her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath.

"What?" I asked, hoping optimistically that Tony had somehow stolen a car, so that we could turn him in for Grand Theft Auto.

"We… managed to… look in the…. Windows and..." Natalie panted out, still trying to catch her breath.

"Saw what?" I asked, a grin starting to spread over my face. This could be the day…

"Natalie saw Tony and his idiot friends drinking!" Olivia burst out, finally having made it to me with Molly.

"Good job, girls!" I cried, high fiving them all. "We're going to do a real community service today!" They all grinned, and then waited as I pulled out my cell phone.

"Hello? Operator? What's the number for the Peacekeeper Corp. again?"

 **Tony Dongalls, 17, District 6 Male**

"And then she said to the girl, "How could you do this to a fellow blonde?"" Griff finished, laughing hysterically at the joke. We all joined in laughing our heads off while keeping a firm hold onto our drinks. Everything was just so much more funny when you were drunk!

"Here's to the Capitol, for their _wonderful_ and attentive Peacekeepers! May they always uphold the law of underage drinking!" I toasted, raising my bottle and laughing as Amy, my other friend in the shack, clinked her bottle with me and downed it, Griff laughing and grabbing another beer from the storage container that we had filled with ice to keep the beer cool.

Warm beer was disgusting, so we always brought the storage container with us for our optimal drunken experience. Granted, we didn't remember most of it, but we still drank, and ended up coming back again and again with more.

"So, you didn't invite Gil today?" Amy asked, leaning over to put a fallen bottle back in the large - very large - stack we had from all of the other drinking parties.

"Nope, he didn't want to pay for the drinks, so he stayed home to help Akira with supper," I said. Gil was my little brother, just a 14-year-old, but he acted mature enough for us to invite him to our drinking parties - provided that he paid for part of them. I might have been the kid with a full-time job, helping load goods onto District 6 made trains to the Capitol, but I spent most of it on bottles for myself. Griff and Amy did the same, and since Gil didn't want to always fork up the money, he stayed home today, even if he had to help make supper with Akira, our older sister.

"Well, I guess he's missing out on the fun!" Griff said and took another swig from his bottle.

"How's your sis, Tony? Still as hot as ever?" I snickered, wondering what Akira would think of Griff dating her. Akira was the oldest kid in our family, and after Mom died while giving birth to Gil, and Dad started drowning his sadness in alcohol, she became the head of the family, cleaning the house and trying to stop me from drinking. She had started weaning Gil off of it, bribing him with fewer chores, but I refused to yield yet.

There was nothing for any of us in District 6, nothing except meaningless work in the factories and maybe having kids of our own, so my friends and I decided that we might as well party while we still could.

"You know she's not dating until I move out, Griff," I replied, putting my now empty bottle in the pile and grabbing a new one. "Besides, who would ever want to date your ugly face?"

Amy snickered, and Griff scowled, then laughed as he emptied his bottle.

"Hey guys, can you hear the footsteps outside?" he asked, putting the bottle in the pile.

"No… " I said, frowning. No one in District 6 came out here except little kids, so why would we hear things that almost sounded like a squadron of…

"Guys! It's the peacekeepers!" I said, throwing my new bottle on the floor and running to the door.

"We've gotta get out before they catch us!" Amy said, unlocking the door with the key and opening it. We all ran outside, and sprinted straight into the peacekeeper squadron, led by none other than the resident snob of Six herself, Isa James.

"There they are, peacekeeper!" she cried, smirking at me, Griff and Amy. "I told you, they were drinking! I bet if you check the shack, there will be a ton of bottles. After all, you have to expect the worst from kids like these ones." The two other girls behind her, both rich kids from school, laughed and high fived Isa.

"Well, well well, Mr. Dongalls," the head peacekeeper said, grabbing me by the shirt collar. "Taking after your father, are we now?" My response was to drunkenly vomit on his pristine white shoes.

"Idiot.." the peacekeeper swore under his breath, and then cuffed me to his arm. "We better go take you to your house and bring your friends to theirs as well. After all, the penalty for underage drinking in Six is House Arrest!"

The squadron marched us to our houses, Isa celebrating with her snobby friends as they walked back to her house to find the rest of their kiddy squad. I walked sullenly, trying not to puke again. I had a pretty strong stomach for drinking, but I had had a few too many today, and the jostling by the Head Peacekeeper didn't help my unsettled stomach. As we approached the house, the Peacekeepers split up, some walking Griff and Amy to their own houses, and the rest taking me to mine. Soon enough, we reached the front door, and the head peacekeeper knocked loudly. Akira, thankfully, was the one to answer the door.

"Hi sis!" I said, my vision blurring a bit. Was that two or three Akiras in the door?

"Ms. Dongalls, we caught this boy right here underage drinking. In case you don't know, the penalty is either $5000 fine, or House Arrest for three weeks. No going outside, not even to school. If you choose this option, the only time he'll feel sunshine on his drunken face is at the reapings, and with an escort of peacekeepers."

"We'll take the house arrest," Akira quickly said, and signed the waiver stating that she would be responsible for me not leaving the house for three weeks. As soon as the peacekeepers left, after warnings that they would check in on me periodically, Akira started to rush me to my room.

"Dad came home early, so you better-"

"What's this I hear about house arrest?" my dad, Arkom, boomed, coming down the stairs. "Really, Tony? You managed to get caught? You can't keep doing this! You've got to stop drinking!" He slapped me across the face, and then looked at me. "Don't leave the house. I'm going upstairs for a drink."  
"Can I come too?" I asked, watching Dad walk back up. He was drunker than me, so he gestured for me to come up, and I started to follow before Akira stopped me.

"No, no, no, Tony. If you're staying here, you are going to be sober. It's about time that you kick this awful habit off."

"Fine… " I grumbled and headed to my room. The hangover would come soon enough, and I wanted to be asleep by that point.

 **Isa James, 15, District 6 Female**

I stood in the crowd, waiting for the reapings to start. It had been two days since me and the District Six Community Watch had busted Tony and his lowlife friends for drinking underage, and we had celebrated, happy in the fact that they would be under house arrest for the next three weeks. Also, after a bit of wheedling, I had gotten Dad to take down the shack and buy the property for the District Six Community Watch.

Dad had eventually succumbed, happy to get rid of the eyesore shack and to gentrify the neighbourhood a bit more. Dad despised poor people from around the district, and since I was great at getting what I wanted, I persuaded him to do it. Now, we'd have our own centre to base the Community Watch out of, and be able to catch more crimes than ever before!

As I entertained myself with the thought of catching a murderer, our new Escort, Flowe, walked up to the stage.

Oleena had quit last year, in the 15th Games, declaring District 6 on stage as the scum of the earth, so Flowe had been hastily chosen during the games to replace hr. It didn't matter, however, as a Boy from 8 had won, killing off the careers with a small explosive he used to create an avalanche on the snow-covered mountain the tributes were on.

"Hello, hello District 6!" Flowe cried, waving obliviously to the crowd. I smirked. Flowe wasn't the brightest escort, and with their average IQ seeming to be hovering around 86, it was no wonder that she thought it was great to be an escort in 6.

I looked at the crowd and sneered. 6 was the largest District, and one of the poorest, with lots of flea ridden children in the audience. They deserved to be picked. The Games was where people who deserved to die went, and who was more deserving to die than the criminals and the poor?

"Well, let's start with our lucky lady, shall we?" Flowe said, walking in her abnormally high heels to the large, glass bowl where all of the slips were kept.

She almost tripped on the way, but recovered beautifully, and reached into the bowl, swirling the slips before taking up two. Then, she slowly looked at both, and then put one back into the bowl before opening the last slip very slowly.

 _Could you go any faster?_ I thought, tapping my foot impatiently. If she kept this dragging on, my beautiful pale pink dress might get dirt on t from one of the other kids.

"And, our very lucky tribute for the spot of District 6 Female is… " said, Flowe, excitedly preparing to announce her very first tribute,

"Isa James!"

I gasped in shock. How could this happen? It was supposed to be some poor kid, not me, the daughter of some of the richest people in 6! They were the largest shareholders in Steelezcorp, the largest Car production company in all of 6! No, there must be another Isa James, a poorer one, one who deserved to go into the Games.

Soon enough, however, the Peacekeepers came to grab me, and dragged me to the stage, me fighting and kicking them the whole way. It was people like Tony that were supposed to be reaped, not me!

"Hello, there, Isa!" Flowe said, smiling brilliantly at me. "Congratulations on becoming the 192nd tribute to ever be reaped!"

I scowled, and flounced to the back of the stage, hearing Tony laughing happily at the back of the crowd. He must have been happy, knowing that I was heading off to my death.

"Now, let's pick our male tribute!" Flowe said, walking to the boy's bowl. She grabbed one from the top and opened it slowly to prolong the suspense.

"Tony Dongalls!" I gasped in shock, and then laughed hard as Tony came up, silent and staring at the ground, his fists clenched and his wrists in cuffs, the peacekeepers following him from behind. When he got up to the stage, Tony looked me in the eye, grinned, and then showed his middle finger to the heavens.

Flowe screamed, and collapsed on the floor as peacekeepers hustled me and Tony into the building.

 _Looks like a regular alliance for 6 this year…_

 **Tony Dongalls, 17, District 6 Male**

My only consolation was that Isa had been reaped with me. If Isa had been reaped without me, watching her go into the games would have been a lot sweeter, but fate had singled me out today, meaning that I would just have the chance to make my revenge a lot sweeter by killing off Isa. Oh wait, I've got to watch out for that taboo. The only I could do that without getting ostracised by my District is if we somehow made it to the top two.

That had never happened to any District except Four, and in that case, they were both trained careers and left each other somewhat alone until the final battle.

I waited glumly in the goodbye rooms until Akira, Gil, and Arkom came walking into the room. Gil came in with a big bar of chocolate and put it in my hands.

"For the train rides," he said, and looked into my eyes.

"You better be kidding me," I said, throwing away the chocolate at the door halfheartedly."You know that I hate chocolate. It's too sweet!"

"Don't worry," said Akira, and gave me a huge pack of red licorice. "Dad gave up yesterday's wages for this. So, use it wisely!" I accepted it, and stood up to shake hands with my father. He might have been a drunk, and accidentally exposed me to alcohol, but he was still my Dad, and I loved him.

"Akira, if I don't come back, look under my bed and drink all of the remaining beer. You're old enough, and that way you can honour my legacy!" I said and then burst out laughing. Akira never drank, which was the reason she always was trying to wean us off of the stuff.

Akira shook her head in amusement and impulsively gave me a hug. I returned it, and then turned to her.

"Seriously, if you're short on money, there's some under there that I made from loading trains. Try to not let Gil drink too much. He doesn't need to turn out like me." Akira nodded and walked out with the others, Gil whispering to me that he'd sell the beer for sponsor money.

I watched them go, and turned back to the wall, staring at it with ferocity. If looks could kill, I'd have won the Games already.

 **Hey guys! Sorry if I've caused you stress from taking too long to upload this, but I've started exams, and I'm trying not to fail! Don't worry though, I've got a free week next week, so I should be able to update more regularly then. This is likely how long each chapter for the reapings will be, and I won't be doing them in any particular order, so I'll probabky make some of you tear your hair out, waiting for your tribute to show up. Thanks to 66samvr for these great tributes, and I just realized that their dislikes are yin and yang: chocolate and vanilla. That'll be fun to write! Just so you know, I've reopened the district 3 male because of the amazing amount of tributes I've received over the past few days, and the District 12 female is still open, so submit those! Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ.**


	4. District 7 Reapings: Family Bonds

**Ryker Underwood, 18, District 7 Male**

 _Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!_ I put my axe down, and placed the wedge into the notch of the tree, tilting the tree towards the safest direction for it to fall. The tree creaked, and I jumped back, clear of any widow makers that could fall from the tree hitting them down as the tree crashed to the ground.

"Good job, Ryker!" My Dad said, clapping me on the back as the men working for Dad ran through the glimmering light of the early dawn to the tree and started making marks with axes at every eight metres until the tree started to curve, marking the spots to cut the tree into viable and profitable pieces of lumber.

Dad owned the biggest lumber company in District 7, and I had been working for him for the past couple of years, getting ready to take the steps up to replacing him as the head of Seven Lumber Inc. So, I was working as a lumberjack, and helping Dad with scouting areas to cut in without clear cutting areas.

"I've got to get home, Dad!" I called, walking out of the forest and towards the path towards our house. Reaping Day was today, at 11:00, and I had to be ready by 10:00, so I could pick up my girlfriend, Sabrina.

I walked out of the house, having taken a shower and changed into my reaping clothes, a grey polo shirt, khakis, and some nice shoes, to pick up Sabrina. She only lived a block away, so it was easy to walk over there with time before the reapings started. You didn't want to be late, as if you managed to not get picked, you'd get hit with a $5000 fine, which was big money in District 7, more than the pay I'd get from working for Dad for a year. People in District 7 always arrived early, because they knew that being late was a ticket to becoming homeless.

I walked up to the house, and was about to knock on the door, when Sabrina opened it up and rushed outside.

"Ryker! It's so good to see you!" she said, planting a kiss on my cheek. I blushed, and walked with her down the street, to the reapings.

"My sister's been freaking out about this year's games. Mom literally had to pick the lock of her bedroom door in order to get her out of her room today, and she has to go with them to make sure she doesn't escape, cause of the $5000 fine and all of that hassle. She's so scared of getting picked, because 12 year olds never stand a chance. Alder doesn't even care about it, because he turned 19 a week ago, and is finally out of the reapings. How's Bella doing, considering you're both heading into your last reaping together?"

I smiled, thinking of my twin sister. Bella was definitely the smarter twin in our case, acing every test in school and tutoring me through my couple of years of high school before I dropped out to work for Dad. She was planning to become a teacher, and potentially a politician, so she spent a lot of time studying at our house, only taking time off to help Mom with supper.

"She's OK, considering she's already figured out the odds of her getting reaped. She went to the reaping earlier with her friends, so they don't have to stand around in the line to get checked in." I said, watching the District Square to come into view.

Hearing footsteps behind us, I turned around to see my friend, Damien, run into view. He looked tired, and gasped as he caught up to us.

"I overslept again! Am I on time? I forgot my watch again." Sabrina and I rolled our eyes, laughing at Damien. He was the definition of forgetfulness, leaving behind everything from watches to money for school lunch, which we usually bailed him out for.

"Damien, you'd forget to attend your own funeral!" I teased, getting into line for the reapings. He laughed, and then got into line behind us, turning quiet.

Even though we knew that it would likely be another kid heading into the Games, it still twisted your stomach into knots, and sobered any conversation. Nobody would be talking until they were safe at home.

 **Aris Orchards, 16, District 7 Female**

"Hello, Mrs. Albero! How is your day today?" I asked, wishing to be out of the apothecary that had to work in for my mother, and out in the streets, doing something _fun._

"Yes, yes, Ms. Orchards. I'd like some tobacco for my dear husband, Jeffrey, and if you have any feverfew for my terrible headaches, that would be wonderful!" I nodded politely, and walked to the back of the store while the plump Mrs. Albero waited happily for the herbs and tobacco.

Her son had married Maddie Fey, District 7's female victor, so the Albero's lived in the height of luxury, able to buy everything in the town that they needed, and able to get fat on it. Not that it was bad to be fat in District 7. I heard that they had diets in the Capitol, but in our District, people seeing a fat person would more likely follow that person home, looking to see where the food was, rather than ridicule them.

I walked back to the counter, holding the feverfew flowers, and the tobacco that we sold alongside the other herbs, to add on extra profit for the business. Mrs. Albero smiled in delight, and handed me the coins needed to pay for her purchases, dropping one on the floor in the process. She bent over, and grabbed it, before handing it over to me. Then, she walked off, waving goodbye, while I admired the golden pocket watch that I had slipped off of her wrist while she was handing over the coins. I had slipped it off of her, Mrs. Albero blissfully unaware of what I had done. She wouldn't miss it, though, being one of the richest people in the District thanks to her son. _Even though the rich still feel the tendrils of poverty clutching at them in District 7..._

I wasn't necessarily a kleptomaniac, more like one who did it for fun. After all, anyone who wasn't paying attention was fair game, and it would fetch a pretty penny in the market: enough to make up for the low prices we charged for our services. I didn't do it _that_ often, and it was usually just to peacekeepers, so I justified it to myself that way. Even so, most people in my way usually found that their glitter and baubles could disappear very abruptly...

I walked over to the grimy glass window in the front, and changed the sign to "Closed". Then, I walked into the back, and was greeted by Char, my Australian Shepherd.

I had found Char when I was a little girl, and was walking in the woods with my Dad. He had been trapped by a fallen tree, and had scratched me across the eye when we tried to free him, but when he was freed, he became completely loyal, following me around, and showing total regret for his scratch. I forgave him, and we became inseparable, following each other around the District, and playing pranks on the Peacekeepers.

We also helped out at Dad's butchery, where we skinned animals and sold them to customers. Dad always knew how to make it fun, challenging me to skinning races, and passing the time by throwing knives at carcasses. It helped let me forget that the animals were killed, because even though I liked meat, I hated seeing animals die.

Nowadays, Dad wasn't around anymore. He had been trying to negotiate a deal with some known rebels, who Dad didn't know, when Peacekeepers burst through the door and gunned down the rebels, shooting Dad alongside them. I was too young to know that Dad wasn't coming back. But, I knew that the Peacekeepers were the reason he was gone, planting the seeds of my silent hatred against them.

I walked into the back of the house, Char following me, and changed into my reaping clothes. Mom had gone to help a sick patient, leaving me to go to the reaping by myself. I put on some clean clothes, and walked out of the house, locking the door behind me. Char followed, wagging his tail. The Peacekeepers in District 7 were tolerant of dogs, as long as they stayed out of the square, and Char was obedient. Soon enough, we reached the Reaping Square, and I got in line with the other eligible kids for the Reapings, and Char ambled to the street behind the square, where he'd wait until the reapings are over. I watched in amusement as Lucilda, our Escort, came strutting onto the stage, this year in a ruffled rose outfit, with a black wig. She beamed as she took the microphone, and started up the ceremony.

"Hello, Hello! Welcome to our 16th reaping for our wonderful District 7, and may the odds be ever in your favour!" Lucilda giggled, using the catchphrase that the 14th Games had popularized among the Capitol, and had wormed its way into every reaping now.

I stood in the crowd, and fidgeted, wishing that I was next to a Peacekeeper. Maybe I could somehow grab a key off of a belt, and hide it. It would be great to slow up the ceremony somehow…

"Aris Orchards!" Lucilda cried, smiling at the crowd. My head jerked up, and I instinctively walked towards the stage, still in shock that my name was called. How could have been me?I didn't take tesserae, and I -

I fell as I walked up the stairs, banging my nose on the steps. I automatically felt my nose, and then looked at my hand, now covered with bright, fresh blood.

I laughed, and continued laughing, even as the boy was called up to the stage. It was just so crazy, and I had just added to the show with my little trip up on the stairs. Guess I might have stalled the reapings after all, at least for the Peacekeepers to clean up the stage!

 **Ryker Underwood, 18, District 7 Male**

I sat in the room that the Peacekeepers had shoved me into, waiting for someone in my family to come. I was still surprised from my name being called, still trying to keep a brave face on the stage while realizing I was heading to my death, and still watching the pain on Sabrina's face as I was marched off of the stage, heading towards the rooms where I would see my family and friends for the last time.

Bella was the first to come in, followed by my Mom and Dad. She rushed over, and hugged me long and hard, a single tear dripping from her cheek onto my forehead. Then, she stood up, realizing the full extent of emotion she had shown, and stepped back, letting my Mother and Father pounce on me.

"I'm so sorry, honey," my Mom said, stroking my head the way she used to do when I was a young child, snuggling in her lap. I didn't have to worry about the Games then…

"I can divert half of our profits to sponsor money." Dad stood in front of me, knowing that it was the only way he could possibly support me in the Games. I smiled a little, and shook his hand, thankful for what he had offered me. Dad wasn't the type to get teary and emotional, so he tried to show it in ways like this. He smiled, and stepped back, letting my mother comfort me.

We had never been touched by the Games, always just acknowledging it as a monster in the shadows, a threatening thing, but certainly not something that could hurt us. Well, I guess we thought that, before today. Soon enough, however, they had to leave, and they filed out of the room, my mother openly sobbing as she was escorted out by my father.

Damien and Sabrina were the others to come, quietly coming into the room, Damien standing by the door awkwardly, not sure what to say, while Sabrina sat next to me.

She held my hand, knowing that it was a time for silence.

We all sat and stood there, keeping our thoughts to ourselves, when the Peacekeepers came back.

"Visiting Times are over." I stood up, and kissed Sabrina. Then, I walked to Damien, and patted him on the back.

"Make sure Sabrina's alright", I said, and walked out of the room, smiling slightly at the Peacekeepers as I walked out. I'm ready to play.

 **Aris Orchards, 16, District 7 Female**

Mom let Char bound into the room, excited to find me again after I was taken into the Hall. I had seen him try to make his way up to the stage after I got reaped, knowing that something was very wrong, but Mom had stopped him, holding him back as he ran up into the square. The last thing I had seen of them before I was hustled into the building was Mom talking to Char, who was whimpering in disappointment. I smiled, and patted him on the back.

"Who's a good boy? Yes, you are!" I cooed, scratching him on the part of the neck where he loved to be scratched. Char growled in delight, and flopped onto his belly in satisfaction. Then, I looked up at Mom.

"You're going to be OK, Aris," she said, sitting down next to me.

"You remind me so much of your father. He was always so strong, and unemotional, but loving to me. I wish he was here now. Maybe he could give you some advice that I can't. I promise that Char will be alright. I'll work both the butchery and the apothecary, and I'll save scraps for him."

I smiled at my mother, and gave her a hug.

"Thank you," I whispered, and went back to scratching the dog. Char looked into my eyes, and panted, trying to let me know that he would be there for me.

"I'm sorry, Char," I said, scratching his neck, "But I've got to go to the Capitol alone. You are going to stay with Mom, and before you know it, I'll be back!" Char whimpered in delight, and gazed lovingly at me, aware that I was leaving, but in blissful ignorance of the fact that I wasn't coming back. My throat caught with tears, and my Mom hugged me again, tightly.

I wished that I didn't have to slip out of the embrace, but eventually, the Peacekeepers came to escort Mom out, and she got up, kissing me on the forehead as she walked out, but then, she paused and turned around to me.

"You need a token. How about something from your Dad?"

Mom slipped off the necklace that she kept Dad's wedding ring on ever since he had died, and took off the ring, handing it to me.

"He would have wanted you to have it."

And just like that, she and Char were gone, leaving me with tears in my eyes and my Dad's wedding ring, my mother's most prized possession, the one thing I thought she would never take off, in my hand. Sometimes, life could be strange.

 **Hi guys! It seems that I took too long to get this chapter out, but I just finished my exams, so I am feeling great! Just so you know, i've had to log with my Dad and Grandfather, so i knew some of the "lingo". Both characters really connect with me, especially Ryker and I both having a twin sister (But she doesn't show emotion, so I wouldn't get that seen in my reaping ;D) So, it'll be sad seeing one or both of them die, but on the bright side, the chapter is finally out! So, I guess that's a plus! Big thanks to GreyWolf44 and TheBestGemini for these tributes! Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ.**


	5. District 4 Reapings: Rags and Riches

**Keelan Spinnaker, 17, District 4 Male**

"Wooooooooooo!"

I laughed as I jumped off of the cliff, spiraling into the refreshing water as the dawning sun rose. It might have been nerve wracking to others, but my best friend, Bastion, had dared me that I wouldn't jump off of the eighty foot cliff outside of town. Sure, some guys had died or broken their spine after hitting the water the wrong way, but what would life be like without uncertainty?

I splashed into the water, and swam to the surface, as Bastion, and his sister, Misty, swam over to me.

"Did you make it?" Misty asked sarcastically. I splashed water at her, and swam to the shore, Bastion following me as we laughed at Misty, who was fuming in the water.

"I'm not sure. Did I?" I yelled at her, and laughed as she swam to the shore under the cliff, and then ran as she picked up wet sand, and threw it at us. We ran until Misty gave up, and then sat down, panting from the run. Misty hadn't given up running after us for about a half mile, and sprinting that showed on our faces. As we sat down, Misty came towards us, and we shouted as she threw sand in our faces. Then, she laughed as we spat the sand out, and shot daggers with our eyes towards her.

"I think you did, Keelan! Come on, guys, we've got to get to the shipyards, or else Bryant's going to cut our pay for the week!" We nodded, and raced off to the shipyards, hoping to make it before our shifts started.

I walked out of the shipyards, my arms sore from lifting crates of fish from the ships onto the docks. Bastion and Misty had left before me, as they had finished their quota earlier. I walked to the apartment we had rented, carrying the groceries I had grudgingly bought at the market. Misty was usually the person to do so, but since she and Bastion had left first, I was stuck with the chore. As I finally made it to our apartment, I heard the cries of drunken men seeping from the tavern, right next to our house, yelling at the top of their lungs about a dice game.

I put the groceries down, next to our door, and walked over to the tavern. I walked inside, and was greeted with the sight of men ready to strangle each other over two dice lying on the floor.

As they yelled at each other, I picked up the dice, and then smashed a plate on the floor, splintering into thousands of pieces.

The men drunkenly looked up, and then realized I had the part of the game that they were arguing about.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen!" I said with a smirk, holding the dice in my hand. "The way to solve this is simple. Play again, and make it double or nothing."

I took out a large bag of coins I had in my pocket from my week's pay, and set it down on a table. The men murmured amongst themselves, and then set double portions of their bets onto the table. Then, as we all bet what number it would be, I kissed the dice for luck, and bet a twelve. In the game we were playing, the number was the odds of it getting picked, and the amount you bet times the number you bet on would be the amount of money you got back from the pool of money - or lost. Twelve was the very highest, while most men stuck with sixes and sevens to be safer. No other man dared to play a twelve, and some regarded me with disbelief, assuming I didn't have the money to pay my dues if I lost.

I picked up the dice, and as the other men watched me, I threw them both into the air, spinning as they came to land onto the table. We all watched eagerly as the first die came down, spinning and turning around the table, before slowing down as it fell onto a six.

Some men cursed, knowing that they had lost already, while others who had bet higher cheered as the second die spun around the table, slowly turning from a one, then a five, and then landing onto a…. Six.

I swept up twelve times of what I had bet from the other players, and then mock saluted them all.

"Well, I hope that solved our little predicament. Have a wonderful day, and don't forget to treat those hangovers of yours tomorrow!"

Then, I jumped onto the table, and dove through the front window, smashing the glass and sprinting to the apartment. I grinned as I heard the men reaching a fever pitch, and as I grabbed the groceries and walked into our apartment, I saw one of the chairs thrown out of the window, smashing the part of the glass I hadn't broken, as it crashed onto the street, almost hitting two teens as they walked past.

 _This is why sailors shouldn't gamble…_

 **Monique Rivera, 18, District 4 Female**

I gasped as a chair from the tavern my brother and I were walking past flew out of the window, flying towards us. I ducked, and flinched as the chair smashed into the building beside us, but Craig didn't even blink. He walked on, looking at the ground like nothing had happened, even as men from the tavern spilled out onto the street, brawling over some incident.

We were walking to my house, having fished at the docks for dinner. I had got a large sea bass, while Craig had reeled in a huge salmon, which he was carrying in a net with my bass. As we walked, people stopped to stare at us. Not because of the fish, which were normal in District 4, but because of Craig.

Craig had been reaped for the 7th Hunger Games, at the age of 16, and became District 4's very first victor on my birthday, winning by killing the huge boy from District 2 in a heated battle on the top of the Cornucopia, surrounded by crashing waves that had flooded the island arena. Craig had killed the boy by cutting his sword hand off, and pushing him into the water to be eaten by the kraken that had killed Craig's district partner moments earlier.

He was treated like a God in the district, but no one but my family knew what he had experienced. Only we heard the screams that frequented the nights, ghosts from the games come back to haunt him. Only we knew that he could withstand the loudest noise, having been able to block out the siren calls in his arena, and likely still trying to do so, but the smallest detail out of place in our home, and he was off on a tangent, hiding from monsters in his past.

I didn't know why he reacted like this. He was normal, just like me before he was reaped, but now, he was a shadow of his former self, cowering at any mention of his victory. He had moved into one of the houses in Victor's Village, and we claimed another one, letting him fight his demons alone. It eased the tension between us all, and calmed Craig down. Only when he was in control, he was able to block the past.

As I walked into our house, Craig lugged the fish inside, and set them down in the sink, looking for a knife to skin the fish. As he grabbed one from our counter and brought the fish outside, my Mom came into our kitchen, grinning at me.

"How's our little trainee today?" She asked, grinning at me. I smiled back, and threw a dish loth at her playfully.

"The academy chose me and Reuben Maughan to volunteer officially today, so I'm your little volunteer now! Craig and I are going to go train at the Academy tonight, so could you possibly do the dishes for me? Thanks!" I said, rushing into my room and changing for the training session.

As I came downstairs, I smelt the delicious scent of fried fish, and sat down at the table, waiting for Craig to carry over the fish.

Every victor had to learn a skill to show off to the public after they won the games, and Craig took cooking, taking lessons and making meals for the family. He had become a wonder chef for our family, and Mom and Dad enjoyed it, able to rely on him to cook up a delicious meal when he came home.

As Craig came to the table, I heard the doorbell turn, and heard Dad walk into the house.

"Hey, Misty!" He called to my mom, taking off his shoes and walking into the kitchen. He sat down at the table, and looked over at me.

"Well, I hear that you're officially volunteering now. You'll be training tonight, I suppose?"

"Yes, and Craig's helping me with some moves tonight. So, I guess I won't be seeing you guys tonight." I said as Craig put the fish down on the table, cut up and ready to be served.

"Well, could you clean your room before you leave tonight? It's a pigsty!" Dad said, forking a piece of fish and taking a bite.

"Nope, we've got to go right away if we want to sign in on time! Isn't that right, Craig?" I said, taking some salad and chewing on it.

"Don't talk to me in that tone of voice, young lady!" Dad cried, standing up and placing his hands on the table. "Just because you're entering a fight to the death doesn't mean that you can reserve the right to be rude to your parents like that!"

"How on earth did that come across to you as rude and snarky?" I replied, rolling my eyes in disgust. Dad always had to pick out flaws, even if they were just hints of rebellion.

 _Maybe that's from the Dark Days…_

"One more word, and you're gone, Monique Brooke Rivera. And you can forget about tonight's session as well." Dad said, slamming his clenched fists onto the table. My Mom shifted uncomfortably.

"Kai, maybe we should quiet down a bit," she said to Dad, hinting at a ceasefire. But, we were too far gone.

"No, Misty, we can't let her rebel on us like this. We've let her have too much freedom after Craig came home and she took a hold of the notion of training, and now she's too far gone. Imagine Talisa acting like this, modeling herself after her sister."

"Stop talking about me like I'm not even here!" I said, standing up and pushing over my chair in the process.

" **Enough!** " Craig yelled, and stabbed the knife he had used to cut the fish into the table, quivering as we all stared in shock at it. Then, I heard the door open, and Talisa walked in, chattering about the sleepover.

"Well, Mistine totally wants everyone to get their-", and she stopped as she saw us at the table, glaring at each other in white-hot anger.

"Maybe I'll just go back to the sleepover..."

 **Keelan Spinnaker, 17, District 4 Male**

I fidgeted as I waited for the line to keep going into the square, impatient for the reapings to start. Bastion and Misty were ahead of me, laughing with each other as the line progressed. I watched the parents head in more quickly, nervously walking into the square. They all knew the pain of today, and I watched couples comforting each other as they stood at the back.

I knew that I wouldn't see my parents there, however. Dad and Mom had met before the war, but after I was born, each went off to fight for the side that they believed in: Dad with the Capitol, and Mom to the rebels, leaving me with my grandfather.

We never saw them come home after the war. Maybe Dad stayed in the Capitol, or Mom fled into the wilderness or another District with the rebels, but they had likely both died in the war, leaving me by myself. I didn't care. If they didn't care enough about me when I needed them the most, why should I search for them?

So, I lived with my grandfather until he passed away, leaving me to fend for myself. I worked at the shipyards to make ends meet, and there, I met Bastion and Misty, siblings whose parents had died years before. We hit it off, and eventually rented an apartment together to spread out rent money.

When career training had become popular, we had all agreed to make sure that one of us would win the games. If I died, Bastion, and then Misty would enter the games, waiting for one of us to strike it rich and let us live the rest of our lives in peace.

Bastion and I had agreed to go first, and had flipped a coin to decide. Even though we both knew I'd be better going in, we still flipped, and I won, making me our designated volunteer. Even though the academy had officially picked some other guy to volunteer, I would make sure to shout it out first, and either send myself to fame and fortune - or a forgotten grave.

I relaxed as I reached the front of the line, and got my blood taken by the peacekeeper. I walked into the 17 year old section, and then waited as our escort, Angolde, came onto the stage.

"Hey, Hey, Hey, District Four! How is everyone today? Today seems fun, so let's get onto the reapings!" He paused, and waited for the crowd to applaud. When he got some cheers from other careers, including me, he grinned, and moved to the reaping bowls.

"Well, our first lucky tribute of the day is… Templar Nite! Interesting name choice, why don't you come right up here?"

As the girl walked out of the crowd, visibly trembling, I heard a voice ring out through the crowd, and a girl walk out confidently.

"I volunteer as tribute!"

It was the sister of our first male Victor, Craig Rivera, and the crowd murmured as she walked up to the stage confidently.

Angolde helped her up, and looked at her surprisedly.

"Aren't you Monique Rivera, little sister of Craig Rivera?"  
"I am indeed," she replied, looking into the crowd, "but I'll show you a performance even better than my brother's!"

The crowd cheered, and Angolde clapped along with them as all eyes turned toward Craig on the stage, who was looking down at the ground.

"Well, it looks like we'll have a fighter this year! Now, let's move on to our boys!"

He walked over to the reaping bowl, and fished around for a slip.

"Guy Scott!"

The chosen volunteer for our district started to say something, but I drowned him out, calling "I volunteer as tribute!"

Then, I jogged to the stage, grinning confidently at the boy, Reuben, who was fuming at the back of the crowd.

"Well, well, well! Another volunteer!" said Angolde, grinning at the crowd. "And what is your name?"

"Keelan Spinnaker!" I called into the crowd, looking towards Misty and Bastion. Both nodded, and Bastion held up the coin that we had flipped to decide who would volunteer.

"And I'm ready to play!"

 **Monique Rivera, 18, District 4 Female**

It was surprising watching Reuben fume in the audience as the random volunteer sprint up to the stage, grinning at the crowd. I had sparred many a time with Reuben at the academy, and was looking forward to playing the games with him. But, Keelan had beaten him to the draw, and Reuben was left behind in the crowd. At least he was 17, giving him another chance of volunteering next year.

We had stood on the stage a bit as Angolde won over the crowd with the relaxed way he spoke the Treaty of Treason, and had been cheered on by the careers as we entered the building. Now, I was sitting in the goodbye room, waiting for my family to come.

I remembered when Craig was here, and my family and I were the ones to visit him. He had been so confident, knowing that he had involuntarily trained with the trident, and armed with several survival skills to help him through his arena. We had visited him tearily, but left knowing that he stood a good chance of coming home.

He had come back the exact opposite the way he left - so scared and withdrawn, only speaking to people when they asked him direct questions, and hiding in his room. A counselor from the capitol had come for a bit to help him with anxiety, but he still had plenty of moments like that. At least he didn't throw fish through the window anymore. We had been reported three times to the peacekeepers at our house when he did that.

Would I end up like that? Would I end up a version of my brother, doomed to a life of being hunted by demons in my past? Or would I end up a corpse, being shipped home in a coffin to my grieving parents? Were they even really that different? Was being haunted by the past worse than dying in the present?

I pushed the thoughts away and stared at the door. Careers weren't supposed to think like that. We were supposed to be strong and fearless, ready to fight to the death, and protect each other. No one ever said that

I heard the door open, and smiled as my family rushed in, Mom, Dad and Talisa, all coming to say goodbye. Craig wasn't with them. He had to go to the train right away, receiving a schedule for his time mentoring both of us with our female victor, Mags Flanagan.

"Hey, Monique!" Talisa called, rushing over and sitting next to me. "Is there any candy like last time? You hogged it all when Craig was reaped, and I want some this time!"

I pushed her away, hiding the candy bowl behind my back. "If you want it, you've got to find it, sis!"

She laughed, and grabbed it from behind my back, running to the other side of the room. Then, my parents came over, Mom hugging me as she sat down next to me.

"Don't be afraid to talk to your brother if you have any questions in the capitol. After all, he is your mentor." Dad said, standing next to me.

"Thanks," I said, smiling at Dad. Even though we did argue, we always made up, and knew that we loved each other.

"You should have a token, Monique," Mom said, holding up a bag. "I shopped for this occasion, and found a little surprise I think you'll like!"

I opened the bag, and reached inside to take out a beautiful wavy golden ring, glistening in the light as I held it up.

"It's so nice!" I said, hugging Mom again.

"The waves represent our district, so you won't forget us in the arena, and to remind you that you have a hidden heart of gold, I made sure it was golden." Mom said, wiping her eyes with emotion.

Then, a peacekeeper came to the door. "Visiting hours are over," he said, looking pointedly at my family. They nodded, and headed out of the room, Talisa holding the bowl of candy and chewing on a piece as she walked out.

I laughed, and sat back down. Some things would never change, like Talisa always making sure that her sweet tooth was satisfied.

 _Wait a minute, she just stole my food!_

"Lisa!"

 **Well, I've finally finished this chapter, and I really like these two! I have also realized that I use the words "fidgeting" and "hugging" a lot to describe goodbyes. Hopefully you guys don't mind! Thanks to Foxfaceisthebest and Elim9 for these amazing tributes! Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	6. An Interlude

**Selena Arthtome, 27, Assistant Gamemaker**

"How on earth did we already lose a tribute before the tributes even left their districts?" Hiram roared, snarling at the cowering game makers who were in charge of coordinating the reapings. I wasn't being targeted at the time by him, but I could still feel the rage radiating from him, ready to strike at the game maker most at fault.

The game maker in charge of District 3 fidgeted, and Hiram took his chance.

"So, it was you, you pathetic little scum, who somehow managed to lose that boy? Couldn't you have cut power to the microphone? The nation was watching, and because of his big mouth, he got himself killed by his old man!"

"Th-th-the mic-microphone wasn't con-connected to the sys-system," the game maker stuttered, shrinking in the sight of Hiram. He knew that it wasn't his fault that his District ended up being the one to reap the one boy in the district with a serial killer as a parent, but Hiram was past the point of no return.

The District Three reapings had just been broadcasted live on television two hours ago, with District Six now on camera, but we had just received word that the boy from District 3, Lincoln Serket, had been murdered by his father in the Goodbye Rooms. We hadn't received word from the president yet, but I knew that we needed a re-reaping quickly if we had any chance of salvaging the games.

"How in Panem did you manage to screw this one up? You might as well leave! Well, go!" Hiram roared, throwing his cup of coffee at the game maker. She took the hint and sprinted out of the door. She would still have to be officially fired by the end of today, but we all knew that she definitely would not come back for anything else.

As Hiram began to rant again at the other terrified game makers, I heard the phone ring and picked up.

"Hello, this is Selena Arthtome, Assistant Gamemaker speaking! How can I be of service?"

"Yes, yes. This is President Ember speaking. I would rather like to talk to your Head Gamemaker, Hiram Grisham, about… the unpleasant events in District 3. Could you pass me on to him?"

"Yes, yes," I stammered, my hand shaking as I passed the phone to Hiram. He picked it up, and his entire demeanor changed, turning from furious to flawless in an instant.

"Why, hello Madame President, and how are you today?"

My fellow game makers and I craned towards the phone in Hiram's hand, trying to pick up on the murmurs of conversation, but all of the eavesdroppings in the world would be no match for their soft tones.

Soon enough, the conversation came to an end, and Hiram slammed the phone down onto the table, grinning wickedly at all of us. I gulped. The last time Hiram had that look on his face, he had fired half of the game makers and had the rest design Siren mutts for the Games. After they finished with the tributes, they had lured five unwary tributes to a bloody doom and had granted Hiram unrequited power over the Games.

"Attention, all game makers!" Hiram shouted, grabbing the attention of any game makers who had somehow managed to miss the fiasco of District 3.

"I've just finished a wonderful phone conversation with our lovely President, Madame Ember!" Hiram drawled, looking at us sarcastically. We all knew that Hiram had no love for the President, and even she was wary of him, never arguing with his ideas, and giving him extra grants for every games.

"As you know, we've lost our tribute from District 3. But, I and one of you lucky people will personally leave the Capitol to re-reap a tribute, while the finishing touches on the arena will be supervised by my assistant, Selena Arthtome!"

I gasped and clutched the clipboard in my hands to my chest. I was being given the chance of a lifetime: the chance of being able to finish the arena, and put some personal touches on it! I wouldn't even have to design it with Hiram shouting in my face!

"But, our President has also greenlighted the… special feature I designed for the Games. Selena will make sure that is implemented among all of the tributes, and the rest of you will follow her lead. But if a single stone is positioned a way I don't like, I have all of your heads! Now, I am bringing Marcus with me to District 3, so if he isn't ready to leave in five minutes, tell him he's fired!" Hiram finished, walking out of the room.

"So we are bringing that feature into the Games," I murmured, looking towards the holographic screen on the table, showing the complete design of the arena.

"Marissa?" I cried, looking at one of the game makers.

"Yes, Ms. Arthtome?"

"I'm going to need that serum Hiram had you make a prototype for in the next three hours. Bring an Avox in here, and we can properly test it." I said, grinning slightly. The tributes wouldn't know what would hit them.

 **Hello, everyone! Is anyone surprised that I had an interlude in the reapings? I have a solid idea for the arena, and I've also got a pretty clear storyline for our new Head Gamemaker, Selena Arthtome! I'm putting up a poll on what District Reapings you want to see next, so you can vote on that as soon as it is up! Do you think that it makes sense for the Gamemakers to test things on Avoxes? Also, I'm wondering if you guys would like me to start up a sponsorship system. Let me know in a review, and until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	7. District 2 Reapings: Pride and Prejudice

**Zora Stikander, 16, District 2 Female**

The paint felt nice across my skin, almost soothing as I brushed it on. The soft green of a leaf was brushed onto my cheek, while I dabbed the rough brown of bark onto my arms. I kept mixing colours, trying to get the right shade for a tree. When I was satisfied, I stepped aside, looking at myself in the mirror in the academy. There stood a smaller girl, her skin painted like bark and leaves and jet black hair falling down from her head. She looked confident, ready for anything. Ready for the arena.

"Wow, Zora, it looks amazing on you!" my instructor gushed, gazing at me in pride. "If you were in the arena right now, no one would have any clue of what was the tree and what was you!"

I grinned, grabbing a wet cloth and washing the paint off of my face and arms. Then, I smoothed my hair back and took a hairband to form a ponytail to hold my hair.

"I think that's good for today. Shall we move on to the poisonous berries station?" Without waiting for an answer, I brushed by the instructor, jogging towards the station. When there, I started up the program, moving the images into the correct stations.

As I worked, I heard someone let out a disappointed sigh. I turned to my side to see a younger girl working on the program, clearly frustrated with the computer.

"What's the problem?" I asked, walking over to the girl. She looked up, visibly brightening as she saw me.

"Oh, hey Zora! I've been working on the poisonous berry station, but I can't figure out which one this is." She looked up, hopeful now that I was here. "Do you have any idea of what it is?"

I smiled, then pressed the poisonous button, sending the image of the berry off of the screen. "Those are Ink Berries," I said, pressing the next button. "If you ever go into the arena and need food, don't eat that. A dozen of those can have you vomiting like a dog for days."

The girl smiled, happy to move on to the next level. "Thanks, Zora! I've been trying to figure out that for a couple of minutes." She sighed, laughing a little as she did so. "I guess that's why I'm just an average career, not like you with your survival skills."

I laughed and patted her on the back. "Don't worry. I'm one of a kind, and if you keep working on those great weapons skills I've seen you practice, you just might make it to the Games!"

The girl beamed from ear to ear, running off to the weapons stations at the other end of the Academy. I smiled, then turned to walk back to my station.

As I walked, I heard a voice calling me, then footsteps slamming down on the floor as a person sprinted towards me. I turned around to see Ajax Hollis, the male tribute for this year's Games, pant as he ran towards me.

"Instructor Barnes wants us to spar one last time. Are you ready?"

I nodded at Ajax, then ran towards the weapons stations. Once there, I walked into a small changing room, ready to change into one of the sparring uniforms for the fight.

As I changed, I spotted a new helmet right above the uniform.

 _Must have been because of that accident a couple of months ago…_

I shook my head, clearing my thoughts as I changed. When I finally tugged my boots on, I stepped outside, ready to fight with Ajax. He came out several seconds later, his face looking eager to battle behind his helmet. He paused for a second to give his glasses to one of the instructors, then grabbed two daggers before stepping into the ring. I looked at the available weapons, before grabbing a pair of sais, longer but less sharp than the daggers.

I stepped back into the arena, taking a stance for the start of the fight. Ajax stepped back, and we nodded to each other. Then, we attacked, our silver weapons gleaming in the light as they danced towards each other. I stabbed at Ajax, careful to make sure I was still guarding myself with the other Sai. Ajax jumped back, dodging my Sai, then running towards me with his. I ran towards him, ready to stop him from hitting me.

As Ajax got closer, he twirled one of his daggers, seeming to want to go for my face. Just as I raised a Sai to defend myself there, he stabbed at my hand, knocking one of my Sais to the ground. I jumped back, nervous now that I only had one left. Ajax advanced, a small grin visible from behind his visor. Just as he stabbed at my stomach, I twirled and tripped Ajax up. It was a small step which was so close to Ajax that no-one would see, making my victory even more flawless. Ajax fell to the floor, his hands signaling defeat as I brought my last Sai to his neck. The instructor nodded, signifying the victory for me.

Ajax got up slowly, taking his visor off as he grinned up at me. "Good job, Zora!" he laughed, extending his hand to shake. " You've really improved since our last match. You're going to be tough to beat in the arena!"

I shook his hand, helping Ajax walk back to the changing rooms so that we could get out of the bulky protective suits.

"I just have one question," he said, glancing at me as I headed into the changing room. I paused, curious to hear what he had to say.

"Why did you trip me? No one else but me noticed, but that was the only reason you won that match, and I'm pretty sure you know it."

I grinned wickedly at Ajax, ruffling his hair as I walked into the room. "Jax, my dear, the answer is simple. Victory has such a sweeter taste than defeat!"

 **Ajax Hollis, 17, District 2 Male**

I laughed to myself as I changed out of the bulky protective suit. Zora never could stand to lose a match, meaning that she would always resort to an ulterior method to win. I didn't mind because anything went in the arena. After all, in a game where you were supposed to kill 23 other children, a little trip was nothing compared to the things people did.

I hung up the suit on a hanger, placing my helmet above it. I made sure it was still on, and then walked out, ready to go home after my last day at the academy.

It was almost surreal, knowing that my time here as a student was going to come to an end today. For years upon years, I had trained in the Academy as an excuse to stay away from becoming a peacekeeper, and this year, very surprisingly, I was chosen as the male volunteer.

Mind you, however, I wasn't the very first pick. The original first pick, an 18-year-old named Tom Barnes, had broken his arm a month ago, effectively putting him out of contention. Next up, Czar Matthews, a 17-year-old, was the second pick, but he had gotten mono after celebrating his bump up to first with his girlfriend. He was in bed right now, resting and regretting the loss of being in the Hunger Games, and I was promoted to first pick, the designated volunteer.

Truthfully, I was very surprised when the head instructors approached me with this news. I was never the fastest kid, the strongest one, the most cunning, or the most weapons canny. I was just Jax, the guy people either thought was a total introvert or, once they got to know me, one of the funniest guys in the whole academy. The only reason I had been the third pick at all was that my Mother and Father paid double the price of any other family here to train me. That meant I got twice the lessons, twice the practice, and eventually, twice the experience of any other trainee in the academy. That work had paid off, and I had been chosen as the third pick.

Now, I was heading into the games, and I was, truth be told, a bit excited to head into the Games. It was the ultimate test of will, of endurance, of survival, and if I could come out of there alive, I would never have to be second best to anyone again.

I walked out of the training center, waving to one of the other trainees as I left. We were going to meet up with some other guys in town after 8:00, to celebrate my success in becoming a volunteer. First of all, however, I'd have to head home for dinner with my parents.

I jogged the short way home, careful to run around any cracks or holes in the sidewalk. If I was heading into the fight of my life, I'd prefer to have both of my feet intact.

The route was quick, and soon enough, I reached my house, lights glowing from inside and a wonderful aroma of steak wafting from an open window. I smiled slightly, unlocking the door with the key I kept in my pocket and going inside.

"I'm home!" I shouted, taking my shoes off and putting them next to the door, before walking to the kitchen.

My mother was there, zipping around the kitchen with more energy than a battery. I took a seat and waited for her to take stuff to the table.

"Hey, Ajax, how was your day? We're having steak and potatoes tonight for your last dinner at home before the games! Your father is upstairs, but he'll be coming down when he smells this steak!"

Right on cue, we both heard the tramping of feet coming down the staircase, and the voice of my father drifted down towards the kitchen.

"Hey, Julia! Is Ajax downstairs, or is he still at the academy? You never can be too sure of where that boy is sometimes…"

"Here I am, Dad!" I shouted, helping my mother carry the plate of steak over to the table, setting it down on a platter. Then, I sat down, waiting for Dad to come down for dinner. Mom sat down too, at one head of the table, the other side for Dad.

"Good, I don't need you running off who knows where when you're about to receive the honor of a lifetime. I do hope that you're having another one of those sessions tonight with one of the instructors. Remember that the Hunger Games aren't won by the most talented, but the most prepared."

"Exactly!" thrilled my mother, smiling at my father as he sat down at the head of the table with a bang, cutting into the aromatic steak. I followed likewise, taking a small but with my fork.

"Don't forget to chew ten times before you swallow, Ajax. You'll do that in the arena as well. I don't want the whole nation to see my only son eating like a barbarian!" chided my mother, taking small, prim bites from her steak. I adjusted my chewing habits, continuing to eat the steak.

Just then, I felt a nudge against my foot, and I looked down, surprised to feel it. I squinted to see my little turtle, Bean, running around the bottom of the table, making tiny chirping noises in excitement.

I groaned inwardly. Bean was my pet turtle, but she always tried to escape from her cage when I wasn't there, hoping to find me in another part of the house. I casually lowered my hand down to her, and she scampered on, chirping in excitement as she squirmed into my shirt pocket.

"What was that chirping noise?" my mother inquired, looking around the table with a confused gaze on her face.

"What noise? I didn't hear any noise!" I said, hoping against hope that Bean wouldn't choose this moment to poke her head out of my shirt pocket. I could imagine my mother's reaction to that…

" _Why do you have a slimy little reptile in your shirt, Ajax? Turtles can cause salmonella, isn't that right, Paris? You must get rid of that hideous little reptile in the next couple of seconds, or you aren't going anywhere tonight!"_

"Ajax? Ajax!"

"What?" I blurted, startled out of my daydream.

"Make sure to set the alarm on your clock tonight at 6:00 am sharp. You don't want to be late for- augh!"

My mother suddenly and let out a shrill scream, her finger wildly pointing at my shirt. I looked down and saw Bean poking her head out of my pocket, happily chirping at the family.

"Why do you have a slimy little reptile in your nice shirt, Ajax? Turtles cause salmonella, don't they… "

 **Zora Stikander, 16, District 2 Female**

The crowd was filled with excitement, the feeling running through most people like energy. I felt it course through my veins, turning the atmosphere into a light-hearted mood. People grinned widely at one another, slapping each other on the backs. I found my mother in the crowd, slightly cringing as towers of men congratulated them on my victory of becoming the volunteer. I smiled, watching all of the other kids watch the stage with excitement. Everyone loved watching volunteers compete, and heavy bets were always taken in District Two on the Games.

I watched our escort, Viridian, come onto the stage, beaming wildly at the crowd as they roared in unison, happy for the reapings to begin. Viridian was rumored among the teens of the district to have changed her name to Viridian to match her hair, a bright shade of the colour that was her name. She grinned widely at the crowd, feeding off of the energy coursing through the town square.

"Good Morning, District Two!" she screamed, pumping her fist in that air as the crowd roared with excitement. Viridian walked to the reaping bowls, flicking back a piece of her hair that had made its way to the side of her face. She looked at the crowd and clapped her hands for attention.

"Attention, District Two! We'll have our Mayor say the Treaty of Treason to us, and then we can get to the reapings!"

The Mayor of District Two stepped onto the stage, carrying the papers for the Treaty of Treason. I groaned inwardly as he flipped to the first page, clearing his throat as he did so. Then, he launched into the speech, the crowd sagging in annoyance as he did so.

I tapped my foot in impatience as the speech wore on, waiting for the time to pass by. I had heard this treaty every year of my life, and it was just as dull and dreary to me as it was two years ago.

Thankfully, the Mayor sped up the speech a bit this time, perhaps sensing the annoyance the crowd was feeling. When he finished, he stepped to the side, letting the seemingly dozing Veridian draw the tributes.

"Wha…. Oh, I'm supposed to reap the tributes so someone can volunteer! Hello, District Two!" Veridian exclaimed, having fully woken up. "Let's reap our lucky lady!"

She stepped towards the bowl, drawing out one of the thousands of slips in the bowl. She unfolded it, once again tucking back her hair behind her ears, and stepped up to the microphone.

"Our first, wonderful tribute for District Two is… Charissa Evans!"

I jerked my head up, my throat automatically spitting out the phrase I had been practicing for the last few months.

"I volunteer as tribute!"

Veridian clapped happily, beckoning me up to the stage. I walked up and stepped onto the stage, Veridian gasping in horror as she saw my face.

"What on Panem happened to your eye? " she blurted out, clasping her hands over her mouth in shock. "I mean, what is your name, young lady?"

I smirked in triumph at Veridian, making sure that she could get a good glimpse at my cold, dead, grey, useless left eye. She cringed, and I stepped up to the microphone. "My name is Zora Stikander!" I yelled at the crowd, raising my hands in triumph. The crowd roared, not caring about my appearance. In District Two, you based someone off of their work drive.

Veridian clapped nervously and then stepped to the boy's reaping bowl. She quickly drew a name out, trying to avoid my gaze, and then read it out.

"Peter Majlovic!"

"I volunteer as tribute!" Ajax cried out, jogging up to the stage. Viridian frowned slightly in disapproval at his casual reaping outfit, an academy training shirt with black jeans. She recovered quickly though and smiled delightedly at Ajax. "And what is your name, young man?"

"Ajax Hollis!" Ajax said quietly, the microphone barely picking it up. The crowd roared in approval, and Ajax cringed back, nervous of the crowd. He looked over at me, and I winked with my bad eye, smiling broadly as I waved to the crowd.

Ajax snickered at my mocking of Veridian and smiled, following my lead as we waved together. We would go into the Games together.

 **Ajax Hollis, 17, District 2 Male**

I grinned as I headed into the Hall of Justice, walking to the Goodbye Rooms. Zora had carried the brunt of our waving to the crowd, as I had stage fright, but I had managed to pull it out with a couple of waves.

Two peacekeepers walked by my side, carrying guns in their white-gloved hands. I shuddered at the sight of them, knowing their fate of twenty years bound to the Capitol's whimsies.

 _It could have been me in those masks in a couple of years…_

I was brought to the room that I would wait for my parents to come, the peacekeepers opening the door and waiting for me to walk in before they closed it, standing guard on either side of the doors. Two more came in with me, and as I gazed out of the window, I saw even more positioned on the grass behind the building. What on Panem had happened to cause this much security for tributes?

I shook my head clear of the thoughts as I heard the door creak and turned to see my mother and father hurrying into the room. My mother ran in, coming to hug me.

"Ajax! I'm going to miss you so much! Remember when you're in the Capitol, don't take money from strangers, always follow the advice of your mentor, and eat enough to energize you for the Games. I don't want you lackluster during your interview!"

"Yes, of course… " I mumbled, already dreading the day I would have to step out on that stage with thousands of eyes on me.

My father stepped towards me, patting me on the back as he smiled painfully at me.

"Listen to your mother, and remember to brush up on training during your time in the Capitol."

I smiled at both of them, nodding my head. "I'll remember all of those things. Wish me luck!"

My parents smiled happily, my mother chatting about her job at the mine, negotiating agreements with other firms for the stone that they exported to the rest of the Districts.

I nodded my head, half listening to my mother as she chatted. Soon enough, the peacekeepers came in, signifying that they had to leave.

"Now Ajax, you've got to remember, don't eat many sweet things in the Capitol! Those things like the cookies that they advertise on the television can rot your teeth out!"

"Actually, the instructors said that I should carbo-load for the Games, seeing that I'm heading into a potential arena with little food..." I mumbled, staring at the floor.

"Listen to your mother!" my father said, nodding brusquely at the peacekeepers as he walked out.

"And don't catch a cold!" my mother cried, waving goodbye as the doors shut on them. I waved back, waiting until I could get onto the trains. As I counted down the minutes, I heard the doors swing open again, and whipped up my head in surprise as I saw my friend, Slate, walk into the room, holding Bean in his hand.

"After you came by last night, dropping off Bean so that your parents couldn't throw her out, she wanted to see you. So, I brought her over!" he said, grinning as Bean squirmed out of his hands, running around the floor in delight.

"Bean!" I gasped, taking her up and stroking her shell gently. She chirped in delight and settled into my hand.

"Thanks for bringing her!" I said, smiling at Slate as he watched Bean.

"Oh, it's no trouble. The little squirt loves you-" Slate was cut off as the door opened, the peacekeepers beckoning him over. He tried to grab Bean, but she jumped out of my hand, running into the room and hiding. We both gasped in shock, and Slate dropped to the floor, looking for her, but the peacekeepers tapped their guns against the floor, warning Slate. He shrugged in defeat and walked out of the door, a worried expression on his face.

As soon as the doors closed, Bean came back, chirping delightedly as she ran around me in circles. I chuckled unhappily and stared at Bean. 24 tributes and one turtle would be heading into this year's Games.

 **Hey! It's me again, and here are the reapings that you guys decided you wanted the most! I really like both of these tributes, and thank brooke2214 and The Girl With The Knives for these two. I also have set up a sponsor system for the Games, so check it out on my profile! Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	8. District 9 Reapings: School's Out

**Paxton Webb, 13, District 9 Male**

I smiled nicely, blinking my eyes innocently as the teacher came up to me, putting her hand out as she asked for my homework. "Actually, Ms Regan," I said, lighting up my face to enhance my innocent look, "Kevin took my homework and threw it into the mud behind the school. Isn't that right, Kevin?"

I held out a mud-covered piece of paper, dripping wet, slimy, brown mud onto the floor. Nothing was legible on the paper, a few words just barely peeking through the mud. I sniffled a bit, letting a small tear run down my cheek to enhance the effect of my sadness over my lost homework. Ms Regan gasped in shock, staring in horror at my homework. She spun around, pointing her long ruler at Kevin. "Kevin Ingleman, did you dunk Paxton's homework into that mud?"

Kevin nodded miserably, sinking into his seat as he squirmed away from Ms Regan's gaze of disapproval. Ms Regan slammed her ruler onto his desk, her voice rising up to soprano levels as she yelled at Kevin.

"How dare you, Kevin, to do that horrible deed to a fellow student? How would you like it if someone did that to you? You know that in this class we don't do anything unkind to each other, and you have just broken our golden rule. Come up to the front, Kevin. Come on!"

Kevin trudged miserably to the front of the classroom, staring down at the floor as he donned the dunce cap that Ms Regan kept for students who had broken any rules in the classroom. Ms Regan patted it on, making sure that the long, sharp tip of the hat was fully upright, before sending Kevin to stand in the corner. Kevin walked over slowly, to the sound of muffled snickers from the rest of our class.

"Paxton," Ms Regan called, looking at me with a pitying expression on her face, "since you had your homework dunked into the mud, you will receive a perfect score for that all, class, I reward good behaviour over good marks!"

"Yes, Ms Regan!" the class said dutifully, letting Ms Regan bask in her moment of justice. Then, the bell rang, and Ms Regan ushered us out of the class.

"Out, out with you all! You don't want to be late for your gym class! You too, Kevin. By the way, you'll be back here in my classroom after school. You simply have to stop ruining homework!"

Kevin scurried out of the room, catching up to me as he glared at my face. I looked at him with a kind look on my face, holding my hand out to him. "Kevin, you better pay up now. I might still have to tell your parents about that cigarette you were smoking in their backyard if you don't give me the $20 you promised me!"

Kevin glared, shoving his hand into his pocket to bring out the 20 gold Panem approved coins that he had saved up as a result of my blackmailing. "All I was doing was pretending, Pax. You don't always have to blow things out of proportion. I would never smoke, especially one of my Dad's!"

"But you did," I pointed out, letting the coins fall into my wallet. "And because of that, you had to pay the consequences. You better make sure to leave the gym early if you want to get back on time to Ms Regan. That fat cow's got to punish you for dunking my empty piece of paper into the mud so that I could get an A!"

I ran down the hall, away from Kevin as he swore lightly at me. After all, if he used any real swear words in my vicinity, he would be forking over another 20 dollars.

Soon enough, I reached the gym, slipping into the locker room and changing into gym clothes before heading to the gym. Most of my other classmates were there, batting a volleyball around the room as they waited for our teacher to start the class. Supervising was one of the volunteer teachers, Giovanna. Lots of kids in District 9 volunteered in schools, as it was a break from the fields, and you would get paid if the school had the funds. Really, however, they were just there to help set up things and supervise so that the teachers could down one last coffee - or one last bottle of cold wine - and get ready to teach. So, Giovanna and all of the other volunteers were stuck at the school, watching children try to throw inflatable balls at one another.

I liked to use the volunteers to my advantage. I hated sports and wasn't the most coordinated. So, I made it seem like other kids had cheated, when in fact it was I who had hit the birdie a tad over the line or the one who tripped another kid in basketball so that I could take a great shot for my team. The volunteers had their hands full watching 20 other children run around the gym, so they would listen to the kid who argued the loudest or the most convincingly - and I always made sure to be that kid.

I got into position, making sure that Giovanna wasn't paying too much attention to me. Then, when a kid hit the ball towards another one by my side, I elbowed them out of the way, spiking it back, out of the circle.

"Ow!" I screamed, falling to the floor and folding my hands over my chest. Giovanna hurried over, gazing at me in concern.

"What happened, Pax?" she said, helping me up as I hiccuped a tear. I let her help me stand up and pointed directly at the girl next to me.

"Natalie pushed me because she wanted to be the one to hit the ball!" I cried, sobbing as I looked at Natalie. She opened her mouth in protest, ready to deny it, before closing it and nodding fearfully. She had just realized that I had seen her making out with one of the boys behind the school last week, and she knew that her parents frowned on anything of that sort. I smirked at her, daring her to speak, before contorting my face into one of pain as I looked back at Giovanna.

"Cou-could I still play? I feel a bit better." I said to Giovanna, sniffling as I wiped away my tears.

"Of course you can, Pax!" she said, escorting Natalie to the other side of the circle. "Now, remember guys, we don't want to be hitting anyone because we want to be more involved in the game. Now, let's have some more fun!"

 **Giovanna Fillinfini, 18, District 9 Female**

I smiled at the kids, making sure that everyone was playing the volleyball game fairly before turning to the gym teacher. Mr Maston hiccuped drunkenly as he swayed over to my side, trying to remain upright. Mr. Maston was a drunk, and everyone knew it. The only reason he had gotten the job of Gym teacher was that of his aunt, who had given him the job after he was fired from his old job as a cropper on one of the bigger wheat farms. Nepotism ran high in these parts of Panem, and the school was no stranger to it. So, the kids were essentially taught by me and a cycle of volunteers, all coming in regularly to help out with the class.

I liked the job. It was everything that I liked to do in school: play fairly, work hard, and play sports. So, teaching those values to others was one of the things that I loved to do most.

I smiled at Mr Maston, gesturing over at the ongoing volleyball game. "The kids are still playing. Do you want to take a seat over by the wall there?"

Mr Maston nodded, wandering over to the chair I had gestured to before sitting down heavily on it. "You're a good kid, Giovanna. I would never be able to teach the kids with the patience that you have. Keep it up… "

Mr Maston suddenly launched into a series of snores, leaning over as he dozed off. I shook my head in humour, pitying his head when he would wake up tomorrow from a splitting headache. Then, I turned back to the volleyball game, clapping my hands as I yelled at the kids.

"Come on, guys!" I called, beckoning them with my hands to come over to me. "We're going to work on some basic drills to improve your serves, so everyone grab a volleyball and head over to the wall!" Everyone did, grabbing volleyballs that I had dropped into one of the equipment bags last night before heading over to the wall, ready to practice. I grinned, running over with one of the remaining volleyballs. Then, I set up my hands, ready to serve the ball at the wall.

"OK, everyone!" I called, making sure that all of them were paying attention to me before I went back to my stance. "We are going to stand the way I do, but not yet. Watch how I serve the ball and catch it when it comes back, and when I say go, you guys can do it too. OK, remember to put the foot of the hand that you serve with in the front, before serving the ball with your hand in the posture that I showed you how to do last time!"

I took aim, making sure that my hand was curled up correctly before aiming it at the wall. Then, I hit the ball, spiralling to the wall - before another hit it, making it bounce directly into Mr Maston's face.

Mr Maston fell over, sputtering and clutching his now bleeding nose as he vainly tried to stand up. Eventually, he floundered up to his feet, stumbling to the bathroom as he clutched his nose, trying to get there to grab tissues to clog it up with. I sighed in annoyance as I saw the crimson dots of blood fall on the floor, before turning back to face the class sternly. "Now, which one of you threw that volleyball?"

I looked in the back to see Paxton point at a classmate next to him. "Derric wanted to see if he could hit your ball out of the air!" he tattled, waving his finger at the boy next to him. I threw the ball back to Derrick, who caught it with ease.

"Derrick," I said, shaking my head sternly, "You can't be doing that to Mr Maston. He is your teacher, after all!"

Just as Derrick opened his mouth, the bell rang, all of the kids rushing for the locker rooms. I headed behind them, jogging out of the door so that I could get home quickly. I ran out of the school, holding my bag by my side as I got onto the school grounds. My house was only a mile away, so it was a brisk jog to run there after working at the school.

I soon reached my home, panting slightly as I walked up to the door and turned the knob. I walked into the sound of shrieking coming from upstairs, and the sight of a pillow being tossed down the staircase, falling down with a plump onto the bottom. Worried, I ran up the stairs, to the sight of my younger brother, Lennon, pushing my younger sister, Hadley, down the stairs. I caught her with a slight stumble and set her down on the top of the stairs beside my other sister, Trisha, who was wailing at the top of her lungs.

"What on Panem is wrong with you fiends?" I yelled, picking up the stuffed teddies that were thrown around the hallway. Lennon and Hadley both instantly pointed at each other, while Trisha took her thumb out of her mouth so that she could point at both of the two with her hands.

"Lennon tore the head off of my President Ember doll!" Hadley cried just as Lennon put in, "Hadley ripped off the tail of my lion mutt!"

"Enough!" I said, putting my hands up in a bid for silence as I dropped the teddies at their feet. "All three of you, pick this up and put it away where it belongs. And no, Hadley, before you ask, you cannot flush them down the toilet or throw them out of the window. They must remain in Lennon's room."

With that, I stomped back down the stairs, walking towards my father's room. I quieted my footsteps as I peered in, looking at my slumbering father.

"Dad, are you OK today?" I whispered, waking him up. Dad sat up while rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, before smiling gently at me.

"The cough's gotten a bit better, but we both know it won't stay that way for long, dear. I've just got to try to wait for the illness out. It's the only thing I can do."

"Got it," I replied softly, starting to walk out of the door.

"You have a good night, Giovanna. You look just like your mother did at times like this."

I smiled at the thought, closing the door softly as I walked back to the kitchen, ready to make a meal. Dad was dying, but he would never admit that to anyone. Instead, he lay in bed, trying to remove any stress from the family by staying out of places where he could overwork himself. The only thing that I could do was take care of the younger ones, and that I would.

I walked back to the kitchen and brought out a package of dry spaghetti. It would be perfect for a pre-reaping dinner…

 **Paxton Webb, 13, District 9 Male**

I frowned into the crowd as our escort walked onto the stage, smiling happily at the crowd as she waved the mayor onto the stage. Wendola was stupidly cheery, even for an escort. I hated every year of the reapings, just because I would have to endure her pitiful face.

I looked at the back of the square, catching the eye of my adoring parents. They would do anything for their little boy and had made sure that I would never have to take any tesserae. As a result, I was never worried about the reapings, instead always smirking at the tributes who had to go into the Games. They were usually poor little scum, kids in the district who were reaped because they took too much bread out for their family.

Our escort smiled brilliantly as the Mayor finished reading the Treaty of Treason, walking over to the reaping bowls to choose the name of the female tribute. At that moment, I decided my new nickname for her was Dimmy.  
Dimmy reached into the bowl, bringing out a slip before unfolding it. She smiled again, leaning in towards the microphone.

"Giovanna Fillinfini!"

I snickered in delight as Giovanna slowly walked up, appearing to try to breathe in air as she walked up onto the stage. She looked frightened out of her mind.

Dimmy greeted her happily on the stage when Giovanna came up, urging the crowd to clap for their newest tribute. Unsurprisingly, no-one did, and Dimmy quickly moved on to the boy's reaping bowl.

"Paxton Webb!"

My world stopped for a moment, as I tried to make sense of what just happened. I had just been reaped, but I couldn't let anyone see me in shock. That wouldn't look good on television.

I walked out slowly, letting a tear trickle down my chin as I sniffled sadly. The best thing for me to do would be to play the scared child card, so that was my plan for now.

I sniffled again, letting another tear run down as I came up to the stage. Dimmy looked at me in pity, wrapping her arms around me in a comforting hug. I tried not to choke on the scent of her overpowering perfume as she hugged me, before burying my face in my hands - but not before letting the cameras see me smile gratefully to Dimmy - and pretending to sob. Dimmy ended the ceremony quickly, before ushering us both inside to be escorted to the Goodbye rooms with a full squadron of peacekeepers.

I walked into the room, looking curiously at the two peacekeepers inside the room. I had never heard of peacekeepers inside the Goodbye rooms. They were supposed to be private places to say goodbye to your loved ones, and the white armoured clad soldiers would spoil that mood very quickly. Something big must have happened for them to guard us like this.

I started crying again when my parents came into the room, my mother sobbing loudly as she wrapped her arms around me. It was almost as uncomfortable as the hug from Dimmy, but at least she didn't wear the horrible perfume that was most likely still lingering on the stage. That stuff was ripe.

I sniffled goodbye to my parents as they left, handing me a cute little teddy bear as they went, and then sat down, looking at the wall. Making sure that the peacekeepers couldn't see my front, a slow grin started to form on my face. I would be the one person to come out of the arena, no matter what I had to do to put the odds in my favour.

 **Giovanna Fillinfini, 18, District 9 Female**

I rocked back and forth in the chair that I sat in, trying to piece together what had just happened out there during my fateful reaping. It was supposed to be the last I had to sit through, the last one that I had to worry about, before being able to go back to my life, free of any anxiety that came from the threat of the hunger games. But, fate had been cruel today, and I was chosen by Wendola to represent District 9 as the female tribute.

 _Represent. That's such a soft word to describe a person who is about to head into an arena to fight 23 other children to the death, possibly, no, likely dying themselves…_

Granted, I had always toyed with the idea of volunteering myself. It was an intriguing offer, with the chance of becoming rich enough that I would never have to work again. After Dad had become sick, I had toyed with that idea even more, even getting up early to run and practise weapons skills with the gym equipment. But Mom started drinking to drown her pain of Dad becoming sick, and her already weak liver failed a couple of months ago. When I looked into her coffin to see the peaceful expression on her dead face, I realized that I could never volunteer. Death was a cruel thing, a threat that would mean that I could never see anything or anyone I ever loved again. And with Dad on death's door, there would be no-one to look after Lennon, Hadley, and Trisha. Without me, they would slowly starve, withering away into shadows of their former selves. They'd have to take tesserae to survive, something that I would never be able to let them do. And with that, my thoughts about volunteering withered away, dancing into the wind. Besides, I had absolutely no idea of what to do in the outdoors. I was as helpless as a child when it came to survival skills, and that wouldn't help the case of an outer district volunteer.

My siblings came rushing into the room, Trisha sobbing as she launched herself into my lap. She clambered up and started to wail again, her tears falling down onto my grey skirt.

I wiped Trisha's tears away, calming her as I looked at my siblings. "Don't worry. I'm going to fight as much as I possibly can to get back here. You will all be on my mind when I'm in the arena. So, don't worry, and look after Dad. When I come back, I need him alive so that he can take some medicine."

Lennon smiled through his teary face and nodded. Hadley stood next to him, hugging me before promising to look after Trisha and Dad. I smiled at them all, ushering them out the door when the peacekeepers beckoned them to leave.

"Make sure to feed yourselves well when I am gone!" I called, watching them vanish into the hallway. "I don't need you guys starving!"

Trisha suddenly ran back, ducking under the panicked peacekeepers as she came back to me. She trotted to me, holding out her hand. In it, was the whistle that I used at my time at the gym, volunteering and helping the kids learn sports.

"For good luck!" she said, before running back to the others. I smiled at her, fingering the shiny silver whistle. I would come back, whether it cost me my sanity or my dignity. But nevertheless, I would come back to District 9.

 **Hello! Look who wrote 3.5 thousand words today so that I could update again! What do you think of these two? Thanks to District 9 Tribute for submitting them, and I can't wait to write them further! Well, I wrote this pretty quickly, so I wouldn't expect another reaping coming out this week, but it might happen if I can muster myself to do it. By the way, check out all of the sponsor items on my list on my profile! If you think something should be there when it isn't, PM me and I'll try to get it on. Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	9. District 11 Reapings: I Dreamed a Dream

**Cornelia Fields, 13, District 11 "Male"**

The clanging of bells always woke our family up in the mornings. The field workers in District 11 usually lived quite close to them, so that way we could all maximize the time we worked in them. Of course, that meant that tracker-jacker nests always seemed to appear under the roofs of our houses, but if you had enough protective clothing on and a large stick, that problem could be solved fairly easily.

I looked outside to see the first few workers from the night shift of harvesting crops start to walk into the town, yawning and scratching cuts from the crops in the would be sleeping for the rest of the day, only waking up for the night to work the next shift. Mom and Dad both worked the day shift, so they didn't sleep through the whole day, but were gone for almost the whole day, only stumbling back through the dark with my older brother, Sumac, when the sun had gone down and when I was in bed, my stomach aching in hunger from the small meals we had.

I heard the stirrings of my parents and brother as the night workers streamed out and the first day workers started to walk to the fields, ready for the heat of the summer sun. My brother looked into my bedroom blearily, obviously tired from the hot night. When it was summer in District 11, the nights felt almost unbearable, with the air seeming to hide any fresh, cool breezes, leaving most of the district fidgeting in their beds, trying to find a comfortable way to sleep. But you always ended up falling asleep. When you lived in District 11, you were always so tired from the long day of work, you ended up dozing off from the exhaustion of the day.

I started to pull on my clothes, putting on a black t-shirt and some ripped pants. I didn't have many nice clothes, so I usually wore these to school and any mandatory events to attend. I sometimes pretended that the clothes I wore were beautiful dresses, with plenty of frills and pink bows, but my family didn't have enough money for those things.

I twirled a bit as I walked out of the room, walking towards our small kitchen, ready to pack my lunch for another day of school. Sumac was inside of it, munching on an apple. My eyes widened in disbelief, and I started to give him a piece of my mind.

"Sumac, why on Panem did you take that apple? If a peacekeeper ever walked in or saw the core, you could be flogged in front of all of the workers, or worse, hanged! You can't do risky things like that!" I cried, horrified by the insolent deed he had done. Workers in District 11 were not allowed, under any circumstances, to eat the produce that we made. To get that apple, Sumac was risking his very freedom.

"Oh, Cornelius," Sumac said, throwing the apple core into the fireplace so that it would not be found by the peacekeepers, "You've got to get your head out of the clouds and live a little! If only one person takes it, nobody notices what happened!"

 _But my name is Cornelia, not Cornelius…_

I smiled slightly back at Sumac, grabbing one of the remaining bread slices that we had left. We usually didn't have much food, so I had to take whatever there was left for my lunches. "Sumac, are Mom and Dad leaving soon? The bell just rang for the morning workers."

Mom walked into the room, rubbing her eyes as she tried to wake up completely. "Hey, Sumac and Cornelius, my beautiful boys! How was your sleep?"

"Good," Sumac and I replied in unison, Sumac switching his position to in front of the fireplace in an attempt to hide the sight of the burning apple core. I snickered and, to the dismay of Sumac, Mom peered curiously around him and into the fireplace.

"Sumac Fields, why are you hiding that apple core from me? You could have at least let me have a bite of it. When those savant peacekeepers are skulking around the fields, looking to see if anyone is breaking the law, it's pretty hard to sneak one of those back to the house. Good for you, son! Isn't that right, Ryan?"

My father suddenly appeared behind my Mom, yawning widely as he put on his old, scuffed, dirty boots. They would both have to head to the fields soon, meaning that they would have to move quickly.

"If you say so, Lilac. Why, I remember doing that many times when I was a boy! It's great to be a man, isn't that so, boys?"

I nodded, smiling as I did so, but I inwardly cringed. I wasn't a boy, I was a girl named Cornelia Fields. My family was too transphobic for me to come out safely, so I hid behind my original birth name and gender, letting my mother and father guide me in my answers. As long as I hid my identity, I would never be truly free.

 _But if I ever revealed I was a girl, I would never be truly safe…_

 **Pepper Maywell, 16, District 11 Female**

"Pepper, Arley drooled all over my sandwich again!"

"Pepper, Ava won't let me use her new hairbrush, and my hair is all messy from sleeping!"

"Pepper, Peara punched me on the nose because I tried to take her cookie! Look, it's bleeding!"  
"Pepper! Ivy just said I'm going to be reaped if I don't give her the hairbrush! Tell her to stop!"

I groaned quietly, officially having woken up for the morning. I always tried to sleep in on the weekends, but my cousins and sisters didn't understand the health benefits of sleep. They woke up at the crack of dawn and attempted to make their own meals, leading to a morning of cleaning up after them.

I stretched as I sat up, slipping my bare feet onto the cold wooden floor. I made sure not to step onto any of the splinters in the wood, and walked to the kitchen, grabbing some paper towels along the way.

As I walked into the kitchen, my eyes were greeted with the sight of my cousin Spud's nose spurting blood out like a fountain onto the floor, while the girls were all sitting down on top of our old kitchen table, wailing at me in the hope that I would fix their problems. I sighed and, wishing that I was still in bed, handed Spud the paper towels. "There you go, Spud! Clean the blood off of the floor and hold the bridge of your nose tightly. You don't want to cry in front of your cousin and sister, do you? You just turned seven! You're practically a man now!"

Spud puffed up at my compliment, wiping the blood off of the floor as he clutched the bridge of his nose tightly. "Thanks, Pepper. You always know how to make things right!"

I grinned slightly and turned to the girls, who had thankfully quieted down a bit. "OK, Ava, you should let Ivy and Peara use your hairbrush more often. Even if it was your birthday present, we still like to share around the house, don't we? After all, you can brush their hair for them, right girls? And always remember, Ava, you _might_ get reaped, but the odds of that being tomorrow are low. I think you'll be OK, even if you weren't letting Ivy use your hairbrush."

The three grinned and ran off, Ava holding the hairbrush as they raced to the bathroom, ready to tame their tangled curls. The youngest of the cousins, Arley, toddled after them with the soggy sandwich that she had stolen from Peara in hand, ready for anything that the three girls were doing. I scooped her up and gave her a little tickle.

"Arley, let's go back to the living room. Do you want to play with your blocks?" Arley giggled and tried to squirm out of my arms, ready to play in the living room. I walked over quickly, setting her down next to the blocks that were strewn over the threadbare carpet that my aunt and uncle owned. Arley squealed with joy as she sat down to start to stack the blocks up, letting the tower grow until it collapsed on itself.

Arley picked up the blocks and started to do it again, clapping her hands in delight each time the tower came down. I laughed a little, watching Arley repeat the process over and over. Little did she know, she was representing the way my life had gone.

When I was little, I lived with my parents as an only child. Dad died when I was young, in a skirmish with some peacekeepers over the pay deductions they had been making. The official report was that he had stepped on a rattlesnake while trying to hit the head, but a small boy who was hiding in the fields told us that he had heard a gunshot. Nevertheless, Mother managed to just keep going, caring for me; and her soon to be born child, Peara.

I was so excited to have a little sister to play with, I didn't notice the pained groans that Mother made when she reached the end of her pregnancy. I didn't realize that the bleeding wasn't something that normally happened. I was too young to understand the grim look on our district doctor's face as he came out of Mother's room, holding little Peara in his arms. Mother died in childbirth, and the only thing that we were left was a small locket with both of our names on it. Mother made sure that Peara was named after her great-grandmother, and we were shipped off to our Aunt and Uncle's house.

Thus, our life collapsed upon itself, but like Arley and her blocks, we started fresh again, this time with Aunt Ingrid and Uncle William. They were out working most of the time in the fields, Ingrid picking in the orchards and William planting and uprooting trees. They had hard jobs, that was for sure, and the hours were long and the times we saw them were few, but they loved me and Peara like we were their own children. And somehow, that was everything.

I heard the creak of the flimsy door in the front of the house, Arley poking her head up from the blocks as I listened. The screams of the younger children started to grow again, but they were screams of excitement, not fighting. I scooped a protesting Arley up to check it out and saw my exhausted aunt coming into the house.

"Pepper," she said, rubbing her eyes as she headed back up to bed, "can you put the kettle on? I need a long nap. Will is still out in the fields, so when he comes home, he'll be heading straight to bed. Oh, I hope we'll be able to make it to the reapings tomorrow! There will be hell to pay if we don't… "

I nodded and walked back to the kitchen, little Arley babbling about her mom being home so early. I smiled and rubbed her hair in affection. "Be careful, Arley. You've got watch out for yourself in the world. Hopefully you won't ever have to go hungry, and hopefully, you find the right person, but you've got to fight for it."

Arley looked up at me, confused about what I just said. Then, she squirmed out of my arms and ran to the living room. I laughed, then put the kettle on. It was going to be another long day.

 **Cornelia Fields, 13, District 11 "Male"**

I trudged up the road to the reaping square, my family following behind as the thick, billowing dust spread across the road like a huge cloud. It spoiled the clothes we wore and seeped into my throat, choking me as I walked along.

I hadn't been to the actual reaping square last year, meaning that this would be my very first time listening to the Treaty of Treason and worrying about my name being picked. District 11 was one of the larger districts, so there were pre-reaping draws, where mayors and heads of towns in the district drew enough names to fill the square sufficiently. Sumac had only been picked in those pre-reapings twice, which he always bragged about, claiming that the Capitol was too scared to have a tribute like him, but the rest of us knew otherwise. Even though he, and now I both took large amounts of tesserae, there were still kids taking it all for their families. It was always the thin ones who ended up getting picked in District 11, a result of the insane amounts of tesserae they took to make sure their family wouldn't starve.

Mom and Dad would likely swear quietly under their breath in the ceremony, grumbling to themselves about the vast unfairness that the Capitol was sending children off to fight to the death. District 11 still had no victor, and that never sat well with a district.

 _When we were little, Mom and Dad used to tell us stories about what it was like in Panem before the Dark Days. They always told us about the green grass of the District before it was forced into endless years of agriculture, Dad's joy of visiting relatives in District 11, and their first date in the sandy beaches of District 4. That was before the war, of course, and the only thing that brought Mom excitement now was telling us about the luscious taste of a chocolate bar._

 _Mom and Dad first had Sumac as a child, and they always told us stories about his joy when he found out that they were having another sibling when I was born. They had had two other pregnancies before me, but Oakley died when Sumac was a baby, and he was just five when Ivy died of influenza. Mom always called me her little miracle, and she told us that when she had me, Dad cried out in joy because I was another sun._

 _After me, Mom had one more baby, Lavender, who was born when I had turned five. We were both delighted that Lavender was a healthy girl, and she and I bonded as the years went by._

 _When I was ten, I was playing inside with a plate that Mom had forgotten to put away, when Dad and Sumac came rushing in with Lavender in their arms. She had followed them to work that day and had wandered into a rattlesnake's nest. Lavender died peacefully that night._

 _It was around a week after Lavender had passed when I suddenly felt the urge to wear a dress. I had never thought of the idea, even though I thought that it would be an ok thing for anyone to do. I was surprised by the urges to do it and hid them safely away from my parents and brother. In addition to being rebellious, they were also strictly transphobic. A worker in our community had recently come out as a boy named Buck, and when I peered through my bedroom window at him with Lavender, we saw that he was covered with bruises. Mom and Dad were grimly satisfied that night._

"Cornelius! Cornelius! You need to check in with a blood sample!" my Mom cried, shaking me out of my stupor. I held my hand out in front of the peacekeeper that we had walked to, and he zapped it before giving me a curt nod to head inside.

I walked towards the thirteen-year-old section, waving goodbye to my family as I entered the square. There was quite a large amount of people here for a selected crowd, and it took a couple of minutes to find my assigned section.

I resisted the urge to walk into the girl's side, grimly reminding myself with a pinch that the Capitol still viewed me as male. I walked into my section and found a place a row in front of my friend, Myer.

"Hey, Cornelia!" he mouthed, waving slightly as our escort, Vannili, stumbled onto the stage. Myer was the only person who I had come out to and was trusted to keep my secret.

I waved back, winking as Vannili patted her glittery white hair before reaching into the girl's reaping bowl. She waved the reaping slip in front of the crowd, trying to gain some excitement. After a few boos came from the back of the square, likely from my parents, she sighed and opened up the slip. "Pepper Maywell!"

A girl from the other side jolted back into the crowd, recovering quickly before walking out of the sixteen-year-old section as she tried to stay calm. I noted a small tear falling from her eye, but she roughly wiped it away as she walked onto the stage. Vannili smiled kindly at her, patting her on the back before raising her hand towards the crowd. When the sound of silence fell once again onto the square, Vannili quickly drew out the slip for the boy's section. "Cornelius Fields!"

I stared at the stage, looking at Vannili queerly. She didn't call my name, did she? Did she? The peacekeepers started to come towards me, brandishing their gleaming guns as they jostled their way through the crowd. It was official. I was a tribute for the 16th Hunger Games.

 **Pepper Maywell, 16, District 11 Female**

I tried not to cry as I stood up on the stage, looking down at the small boy who had just been reaped beside me. His face was horribly white, and it looked like he was resisting the urge to barf onto the stage. I mentally encouraged him to keep his cool. Not barfing would mean that he would not humiliate himself in front of the entire district, but he would also seem like not so much of a bloodbath. And if I wanted any chance of surviving, I needed a strong partner to make the two of us look better.

I smiled into the crowd, catching the horrified eyes of my Aunt. Ingrid looked like she was going to faint, and the younger cousins and Peara looked like that they were about to burst out crying. I stared in concern at Adley in particular, who was trying to run into the main reaping square. If she succeeded, Ingrid and William could be fined for child neglect, and with the added stress of me being a tribute in the Games, that could ruin the family totally. Ava didn't deserve the extra tesserae they would need to pay off that debt.

As if she read my mind, Ingrid handed the squirming Adley over to William, who gripped her tightly and nodded to Ingrid. They would have to pay no fine today.

Vannili kept trying to excite the crowd, showing me and the boy - Cornelius? I wasn't sure - to the district, happily gushing about the honour it would mean for us to participate in the Games. She must have been very happy to have tributes like us; in the 15th Games, District 11 had managed to produce two starving thirteen and fourteen-year-olds. Cornelius looked like that he dreamed about extra meals, and I had to take a lot of tesserae for the family - come to think of it, that must have been the reason I was reaped - but our hunger was almost nothing compared to those two. You could actually see the outlines of bones sticking out of the boy's back.

The reapings were soon drawn to a close, and both Cornelius and I were ushered into the building quickly. As Cornelius entered his room, I saw a family that looked to be his parents hurrying towards the room, carrying something that looked to be a corn husk doll. I smiled at what must have been something from a little sister and then stifled a sob of my own as I entered my own room. I never thought I was going to be the one who was heading off to die, but here I was, and there was nothing I could do about it.

I sat down and grabbed a pillow to sob into, weeping my heart out as I waited for my family to come. Hopefully, their presence would coax me out of this mood, but right now, I felt like the whole world was against me.

A sudden thump in the corner of the room brought my head up, and I peered into the corner, curious to see what it was. A shadow unfurled itself from a curtain, and a tall, seemingly drunk man came out, holding a shard of broken glass.

I screamed and fell out of my chair, yelling at someone, anyone to come and help me. The man laughed drunkenly as he approached. "Did you hear about that little boy in District 3? He died from his old man after being reaped. But what I'm going to do to you will eclipse all of that. The nation will know my name after I'm done with you. Do you hear me?"

I screamed again, nobody responding to my calls for help. The man edged closer, suddenly reaching out and slashing me with the glass. I threw my arm out in protection, and the warm, sticky sensation of dripping blood started to occur on my arm. I yelled in pain and kneed the man in the crotch, yelling for someone to help. He fell over and swore in pain, hissing in fury at me.

A red veil of rage started to come over me, and I started to punch him, ripping the glass out of his hand. I kicked him over and over, yelling in rage as the peacekeepers dragged him out of the room, apologizing to me over and over for the danger I was put in. I didn't stop yelling in rage until my family came into the room, and when they had to leave, I demanded that they couldn't go. I wouldn't let them.

The peacekeepers had to restrain me as they left, but I kept struggling against them, hoping to get them back. Now, the worst thing that could happen was the threat of being alone.

 **Hello again! I decided Lincoln's arc should stretch a bit, and since I know there are always copycat crimes, Pepper was suddenly attacked! I'm sorry if it was a bit messy there, but I am not the best at all at fight scenes. These two tributes were both great, however, and I thank AmericanPI and iridescenteverdeen for the two! Oh, as a shoutout, I have a new partial SYOT called Impossible: The Fifth Hunger Games, so if you want to submit, check it out! Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	10. District 5 Reapings: Ready To Play

**Ashrifah Keyaut, 16, District 5 Female**

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

I continued to smack my sword into the side of the dummy I was currently shredding to pieces, savouring the feeling of destroying this pathetic piece of burlap and sand. The sand inside of the dummy steadily leaked out of the sides where I had sliced through it, until the bag finally gave way and ripped in half, all of the sand crashing down onto the floor of the guest room that I had used for fighting skills.

Panting, I put my sword down in happiness, and surveyed the chaos I had inflicted onto my training area. Everything looked happily demolished, from the shredded dummies to the wrestling mat where I had practised hand to hand combat with my mother. I grinned and walked out of the room. I had done enough volunteer training for today.

Most people would baulk at the idea of volunteering for a death game, but I wasn't one of those kinds of people. I had fallen in love with the idea of volunteering for the Hunger Games ever since I was a little girl, and nothing would stop me from fulfilling my dream of becoming a volunteer.

 _I peered around the corner of the living room, trying to catch a glimpse of the television. Mummy and Daddy had shooed me away once again, saying that the show was only for grownups, but I, at the rebellious age of six, took that as a challenge to watch. I crept into the room, watching out for the toy train I had left behind the couch, and tiptoed around the peacekeeper helmet Daddy had tossed behind the couch. I peeked over the couch, making sure that I could see the television screen without being spotted, and saw the sight of a child, just a bit older than my cousins, running through the forest. I held my breath as he raced around some trees, trying to get away from a big, enormous bear that was chasing him. I squealed with delight as the boy fell to the ground, screaming in agony as the bear ripped into his insides._

 _I could have gotten away, I thought as I crept out of the room, making sure to not wake up Daddy from the nap he always took when he came home, while Mummy quickly flipped to a government channel. Ever since she started working in the Capitol, Mummy always wanted to watch the president give a speech. At least the president had nice red hair. I would rather like to have red hair.  
_ I walked into the living room, picking up the sweater I had left draped over the couch so that I could go for a brisk run through the neighbourhood. I always ran a couple of miles every day, and the fact that today was a reaping day wouldn't stop me.

I slipped on the sweater and tied my shoes up, ready to head out of the door for my run. I quickly checked the time on the clock that hung in our living room. 7:30 am. Enough time for a two-miler, and then still more than enough to take a quick shower, change, and walk to the reaping with my Father.

I jogged out of the door, closing it carefully behind me so that it would lock automatically. You could never be too sure of your home security in District 5, even though we lived in a richer neighbourhood.

I turned onto the street, jogging through the waking district. No one would be out yet, which was what I liked best when I went for a run. They were all too nervous about the reapings. They would be hugging their children, biting their nails nervously, and weeping openly as they got ready for the reapings. The fools. They had no idea that I would volunteer, but not to bring honour to the district. I would become the greatest fighter in the history of the entire Games.

 _I ran down the street, after my father, panting as my seven-year-old legs strained to keep up with him. "Wait up!" I cried, sprinting as he laughed at me._

 _He stopped and waited for me to catch up, ruffling my hair with pride as I ran into his arms. "Hello, my beautiful, precious girl! What would you like for your birthday?"_

" _I want to be on TV like the boys and girls who go into the woods every summer! Could you let me do that? Please? Please?"_

 _My father suddenly stiffened, gripping me more tightly as he looked at me worriedly. I squirmed to get out of his grasp, crying out loud at the pain of his grip. "Look, Ashrifah, you know that I would let you do anything in the world, but I'm not able to let you go on TV yet. After all, don't you want to stay here with me and Mom? We can have more fun here, and maybe I'll let you come on some trips with me to District 2! Your mother could even bring you to the Capitol, of all places! But I don't want you to go on TV. You're too young for that."_

 _I didn't speak to my father for a month. How dare he stop me from doing what I wanted? It was my birthday, after all! All of the kids at school said that you could do anything you wanted on your birthday!_

Sure enough, however, my mother heartily agreed when I complained about what my father had said, and she secretly bought me some toy swords and axes that Capitolite children played with. They were replaced with real ones within the month.

I had secretly gotten better throughout the years, training, fighting, and watching the Games with a passion. The Capitol was wondrous to have made the ultimate battleground, one for me to whet my sword upon! I would show them all. I would make the name Ashrifah Keyaut go down in history. All of the others would have to watch out for me, the best of all of them by far.

I suddenly stopped, my watch frantically beeping.

 _Dang! I ran too far! Better sprint back to the house…_

 **Wyatt Blink-Box, 14, District 5 Male**

I bent down onto the ground, trying to figure out the best way to connect the wires to the Tesla coil that I was trying to make. If all went well, I would be able to destroy every hearing aid in the vicinity and help myself become an even greater inventor. If only I could invent something to help me make some friends…

I kept moving the wires to different outlets in the transformer, trying to make sure that all of them were perfectly positioned. I had positioned the plywood perfectly in the structure, had added the supporting coil, and added all of the capacitors in their proper place. All I needed was to make sure that the electricity was running the correct way through my tesla coil, and I would be able to make it work.

I re-adjusted the thick, fluffy cooking gloves that I was wearing for the experiment, the insulators for my hands in case something went wrong with the electricity in the Tesla coil. I didn't need to suddenly explode this experiment in my parent's garage. The kids at school would find that way too funny for my liking.

I positioned one of the wires into the outlet and crossed my fingers as the coil started to hum. Suddenly, a flash of electricity leapt out of the coil. I yelled in excitement as the lights in the garage suddenly went off, leaving me in total darkness. The Tesla coil continued to spark, bolts of electricity leaping off of it all around the garage. I yelped a little as one came close to me, but I knew that it wouldn't reach me in the end. The Tesla coil might be strong enough to break the electric circuit of the lights in the garage, but the electric bolts never could get long enough to reach me.

"Wyatt! If you don't get the lights in the house back on _this instant_ , you won't be receiving your allowance for the next week!" my mother hollered at me, opening the garage door to reveal darkness inside the house. I flicked off the power switch and ran to the side of the garage.

"We just need to turn on the power again!" I said, flicking all of the switches in our power box off before turning them on again. As soon as I did that, the lights flickered, then turned on again for good.

"There! It's as good as new!" I said, grinning at my mom before breaking out into a laugh. Most people said that my laugh was really annoying and if I didn't stop laughing in the next couple of seconds they would punch me in the face, but I didn't care. It was my scientist's laugh and, happily to me, it would go down in history when I became known as the smartest person in District 5.

I walked out of the garage, happy to know that my experiment was finally a success. Usually, the experiment I was working on exploded, failed, or just didn't turn on at all. When I tried to make a lie detector last year, it took three hours before Mom dragged me away from it so that I could finally eat supper.

I entered the house, looking at the back of my mom disappearing into the kitchen. Mom always started to cook up a storm when she was nervous, and today proved no exception for her tendencies. I could smell the delicious scent of fried doughnuts wafting out of the doorway. Oh dear. Mom always cooked high-calorie foods when she was _really_ nervous. Dad would have to take a while to comfort her and lower her stress levels, or she might faint during the reapings.

I came into the kitchen, grabbing my coat from the tidy coat hooks that my Mom fastidiously kept in the house. Even though she could be really relaxed about things, and could let some things go, she could never abide a messy house, and thus my experiments always had to be cleaned up in 24 hours after their completion… or else.

"Hey, Mom! I'm going to start to walk to the reapings! I'll try to get there quickly. I'll see you after they're over!" I said, waving goodbye to Mom. She started to mutter into the deep fryer, and I quickly walked out of the door. Whenever I listened to their conversations at night - I was experimenting with listening devices at those times - Mom was always talking about how it was a shame that kids were so used to the Hunger Games. Personally, I didn't know how I felt about them. Sure, they killed kids, but they never had actually affected _me_. And from my experiences, no one ever actually made a lot of fuss about something until they were directly affected by it. Mom had a couple of close friends who knew kids that had been reaped, so I hypothesized that was the reason that was why she was so opinionated about the Games. But until someone I knew or myself was reaped, I would never take a side in an argument about the Hunger Games.

I saw some kids from my school and hurried up my pace to catch up with them. Maybe they had some opinions about the Games that would strengthen my hypothesis!

"Hey, guys!" I said as I scurried up to them, panting as I tried to catch my breath. "Any of you know people who have been reaped in the Games before?

"Get away, you idiot!" one of the older boys yelled, holding a sobbing girl in his arms. "Don't you have any sense of decency? Poor Hannah had her little sister reaped three years ago! Go away and annoy someone who hasn't lost a friend to the Games!"

I nodded and walked off, marking down the reaction on a piece of paper. Even though they may have thought that they had gotten rid of me, they had only helped strengthen my hypothesis. Truly you only cared about the Games once you lost someone to them that you knew. Now, where were those other kids in my class? We were having a very interesting conversation about the similarities between me and dirt the last time I saw them!

 **Ashrifah Keyaut, 16, District 5 Female**

I bounced on the balls of my heels impatiently, waiting for our escort Flavia to come onto the stage. The mayor was taking an unnecessarily long amount of time to finish the Treaty of Treason, and I was getting impatient. I wanted to volunteer so badly, I felt like spitting the words out of my mouth this instant. But, I had to at least wait until Flavia drew the girl's reaping slip. Then, I could yell the words "I volunteer as tribute!" to my heart's content. And then, I could all of my dreams come true, no matter what anyone thought of me. I would become a victor for the District of 5.

I watched the mayor finally finish the speech and gather up the many, many pieces of paper that were contained in it, dropping a couple of them and bending down to grab them along the way. Soon enough, however, he managed to make his way off of the stage, Flavia heaving a sigh of relief as she walked to the microphone.

"Hello, citizens of District 5! I don't care as much about all of you as I do my paycheque, so I'm just going to draw the slips quickly and do the regular drill, yadda yadda yadda. OK, I've said enough for your painfully excited ears. Let's go kill some tributes!"

I was surprised by the obviously bored attitude of Flavia, but she had never been the most normal escort. The first time she had come to District 5, she had blown a chemical kit up in an attempt to connect with us, and after that had dressed up in a chemist's lab coat and made her hair look like it had been touched by static electricity. She was fiercely loyal to the district, but just like the rest of us, she hated talking before the reapings. So, she skipped over the formalities, and that was just fine with all of us.

Flavia walked to the front of the stage again and walked to the big reaping bowl for the female tributes. She smiled brightly, but the microphone was able to pick up the words she was muttering under her breath.

" _Why on Panem are there this many slips of paper? Hasn't Panem ever heard of environmentalism? I'll have to have a word with Fiammetta when I get back to the Capitol."_

Flavia smiled brightly again, picking a couple of slips paper from out of the bowl. She looked at two of them, dropped the rest, before dropping one of the two back into the bowl. She took the other slip and started to open it. Then, she accidentally dropped and, cursing under her breath just loud enough for the microphone to pick it up, she grabbed a different one. "Elena Cul-"

"I volunteer as tribute!" I screamed, running up onto the stage and growling at the audience. Who gave anything about what they thought of me? What was important was that the sponsors saw a strong volunteer come up from District 5, growling at the audience, ready to fight for the victory.

"A volunteer!" Flavia sarcastically grinned, smiling at the audience painfully. I frowned at her, not liking the way she was reacting to me. "And what is your name, my dear?"

"Your future and soon to be the first victor from District 5, Ashrifah Keyaut!" I yelled, baring my teeth at the rest of the district. Flavia grinned, looking back at the mentor for District 5. Carrius had been the mentor for District 5 for as long as I could remember, as we had never gotten a victor.

"Well, Ashrifah Keyaut, good luck! Now, let's pick our next unlucky tribute!"

 **Wyatt Blink-Box, 14, District 5 Male** "

I looked at the ground intently, waiting for the reapings to be over as soon as possible. There was only a chance of about three in 20,000 that I would be picked as the male tribute for District 5, so I would only have to wait a couple more minutes before I could reunite with my parents.

I was actually surprised by the girl who had volunteered. I couldn't recall a time when District 5 had gotten a volunteer, and from the look of the audience, no one else did either. She would be one to watch - and bet on - during the Games.

Flavia walked over to the boys reaping bowl, drawing a name much more quickly than she had done before. I yawned a bit as she opened the slip carefully, making sure not to rip it. I knew that there wasn't much of a chance of that happening. The strength of the extra-extra thick paper slip in her trembling hands would be way too much for her to rip unless she was trying to actively. Then, all bets were off.

Flavia leaned towards the microphone, making sure that it would pick up her voice. I almost snorted in laughter. If the microphone had managed to pick up the profanities that she had uttered when she had dropped the other slip into the girls reaping bowl, it would have no trouble projecting her voice for this. The poor boy who got reaped now would have no trouble hearing their name being called up to the stage. "Wyatt Blink-Box!"

I looked up in surprise, in surprise of who had been called up. Was it me? No, the odds were definitely in my favour. There was no way I had been reaped over some petty waif in the lower part of the district.

"Wyatt Blink-Box!" Flavia repeated, impatiently tapping her heel against the floor of the stage. I started to scream when the peacekeepers came towards me. Who cared about logic now, someone had to volunteer for me! Someone had to save the great mind that resided inside of my body! I couldn't be reaped, I had way too much to accomplish, too much to say, too much to do! I wouldn't go. I just wouldn't.

The peacekeepers dragged me towards the stage, and I started to burst into tears. I wouldn't stop, not when Flavia tried to comfort me before giving up in obvious disgust, not when the girl next to me licked her lips, happy of receiving such an easy kill, not when the peacekeepers dragged me off of the stage, away from the crowd, who were just happy to not have been the one up on the stage, quivering in fear of the Hunger Games. Instead, it was me. Why me? What did I ever do? I didn't deserve to die! I just didn't.

I sat in the goodbye room, sobbing as my parents came in to comfort me. I wouldn't let them console me. It was in no way their fault that I was reaped, but I needed to vent, so I continued to sob, crying through my Mom sobbing her heart out as well, through the concerned look on a peacekeeper's face when he received a call from another person, and through my Mom and Dad being ushered out before more, many more, peacekeepers came filing into the room, ready to protect me from whatever they were so worried about.

I finally stopped when a peacekeepers came into the room to take me into the train, trying to dry my eyes on the couch. I might have fallen apart, but I needed to concentrate now. The cameras were about to come out, and I needed to have a game face. If I was really being reaped, I was going to play the Games until the very end. And, no matter the cost, I would try to win.

 **Hello again! What did you think of these two? I might have tweaked their characters and others a wee bit, *cough* *cough* but I really liked how they turned out! How was Flavia? Let me know in a review! A big thanks to kealimepie and iridescenteverdeen for these amazing tributes! Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	11. A Test

**Selena Arthtome, 27, Assistant Gamemaker**

"OK, I want a pack of mutts over on the far side of the arena. Can you have them ready for tonight?" I asked, tapping the screen of the mutt control section. The game maker in charge of the mutts nodded and barked orders throughout the phone. I smiled and walked off. It was always good to have mutts in an arena. It livened things up when deaths were low, and it made sure that tributes who were in the more isolated parts of arenas didn't have an easy time in the arena. We didn't want to kill too many tributes by mutts though. There was always the profit from the reenactments to think of, and the public generally enjoyed more deaths by combat than by natural causes.

I stopped by the weather section of the control room and tapped one of the assistants on the shoulder. She swiveled around in her chair and smiled brightly when she realized it was me, not Hiram, who was going to ask her to do something. Hiram was never the kindest person when it came to giving out orders. "Hey, Kassandra! I'd like to see a sunny first few days before we ramp it up as the tributes dwindle. Do you think you can fit a couple of clouds and light showers as well in there?"

Kassandra nodded, turning back in her chair to type in the code needed to add those few variables into our weather formula. When the Games started, it was always best to leave the weather up to the computer. A controlled weather system in the first couple of days was well liked by the Capitol - and it saved a lot of sleep for tired interns, staring blankly at a screen for hours until they could switch it to "slightly cloudy this time, please!"

 _How about I slightly KILL you, this time, please?_

I walked out of the control room, towards one of the smaller rooms that I had set aside for certain experiments needed to get the arena up and running. I opened the door, causing the three game makers in the room to look up and nod in recognition. The oldest one of the three stood up, coming to shake my hand firmly. "Ah, Ms. Arthtome. Just in time to see the results of the experiment! The avox hasn't reacted much for the last hour, just as we wanted. As I recall, the time of the injection was just about 58 minutes ago. We're in for a treat!"

I looked over to the avox, who was busy glaring fiercely at the three game makers. She was contained behind the forcefield and was looking perfectly normal - for now.

The game maker leaned over to me. "Her vitals haven't been acting up too much from the hallucinogens, although we have been seeing some strange heart murmurs. Nothing too serious, however. Our tributes should react positively to the drug as long as they aren't allergic to psymurian. That would lead to some unexpected results, wouldn't it?"

I nodded slightly, looking up at the timer on the wall. It steadily ticked onwards, counting down the minutes towards the hour. The timer finally struck one hour, causing all of us to whip our heads towards the avox. She looked strangely at us, trying to figure out what we were doing. Then, she shrugged her shoulders and went back to staring into space.

I laughed. Silly us, it was redundant to think that the serum would work in exactly an hour. It was going to take a bit less or a bit more, so we would have to wait.

I continued to watch the avox, tapping my foot against the floor in impatience. One of the assistant game makers coughed slightly, before covering his mouth and staring down at the floor.

Suddenly, the avox widened her eyes, staring at us strangely. She looked down at herself, then us, then herself again. She got up and started pacing, looking at us with a slightly panicked tone in her eyes.

I leaned over to the game maker beside me, whispering in his ear. "Are the results satisfactory?"

He grinned, tapping his watch and watching the panicking avox. "Of course, Ms. Arthtome. The effects won't be permanent, so we just have to keep her in quarantine for a couple of weeks. The brain scans indicate a bit of a red haze in her vision, but red is an aggressive colour, don't you think? I think it will rather encourage the tributes to get past the initial fear of the serum and kill."

I watched the avox, who was staring at me with horrified eyes. She opened her mouth and started to silently scream. "I think you're right, Mr. Mendez. I think you're right."

 **Hey guys! I decided to have another interlude to continue the game maker story, so you guys have a couple of clues to what the serum and the arena are! What did you think of the experiment? Hopefully, you liked it and will leave a review! Happy Easter! Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	12. District 10 Reapings: Blackened Tears

**Marshall Furr, 16, District 10 Male**

The small wisps of clouds that hung in the blue sky lazily drifted past me, giving me the promise of rain in the next few days. That was a good thing. District 10 hadn't had rain in the past couple of weeks, and the grazing pastures were starting to feel the drought.

I shifted in my position in the lone oak tree, trying not to drop my book. Watching the cattle always meant that I was able to read something, and the book was pretty good. I flipped the page, reading about the boy who had it all and yet had no one to share it with. He was currently running to find the beautiful girl that he had spotted falling into the river. I snorted. Knowing the propaganda that was on the list of accepted literature in Panemian schools, she was probably a Capitolite. They always managed to shove one of them into a protagonist position.

As the boy dove into the river, planning to save the girl who had suddenly been revealed to be chasing after her dog, I looked up and watched the cattle. Grandfather had a large herd of them, so there were about fifty cattle grazing the pasture of the little patches of green grass that were left. The drought had hit this part of the fields hard.

A series of frantic barking suddenly reached my ears, a high pitched, almost frightening series of barks. I looked down to see Osiris, one of the several sheepdogs we had, barking at me. I frowned. Osiris was a well-trained dog, and the most important thing that we had drilled into him was to not frighten the cattle. Something was wrong, and Osiris knew it.

I jumped down from the tree, stuffing the book into the small pack I kept on my side. I reached out for the tranquillizer gun tied to my belt and looked around the fields, trying to figure out what the danger was. There hadn't been wolves in District 10 for ages, but you never knew. Grandfather had tales of chasing off wolves from the cattle when he was a young boy, back when he owned half of the lands he did now. Back then, there were plenty of wolves roaming the fields. Now, they had retreated into the farthest reaches of District 10, only surfacing in remote villages.

Osiris started to bark again, with the other two sheepdogs, Consus and Maia, joining into the frantic symphony. A bitter smell reached my nose, and I sniffed, puzzled of what it was. It was so bitter, and thick, and… smoky.

I turned around, looking for the fire that I knew was undoubtedly blazing in the fields. To my horror, I saw the orange glow of a blaze in the distance, with black billowing smoke rising into the air. The drought and something, maybe a careless herder who smoked, or some boys playing with fire, had sparked an inferno. The crops were going to go up in flames.

"Osiris! Consus! Maia! Herd the cattle! Walk on!" I yelled, whistling loudly to the dogs. They understood, racing towards the cattle and barking frantically. Maia nipped at the heels of the cattle who were slower to move, while Osiris and Consus ran alongside them, making sure that none strayed from the herd. I smiled grimly and started to sprint after them. "Mantilla! Here girl!"

The beautiful paint horse that I owned poked her head up from the grass she was chewing, nickering in concern. I whistled to her, and she cantered towards me. As she came close, I leapt onto her back and grabbed her mane. "Come on, girl. We've got to save the cattle."

Mantilla started to gallop after the herd, neighing loudly. I patted her side and leaned into the riding position that Dad had always taught me to use in a gallop. We needed to go fast.

We soon caught up to the stampeding cattle, and I watched the dogs sprint as fast as they could, trying to keep all of the cattle within the herd. Osiris, Consus, and Maia were doing the best that they could, but in their rush, a small calf had wandered away from the stampede.

The bitter taste of smoke caught in my mouth as I urged Mantilla around, trying to make sure that we could reach the calf. It was obviously scared, mooing loudly at the orange glow of the approaching flames. Embers started to fall around Mantilla and I as we raced towards the calf, lighting the dry pasture on fire quickly. If we didn't hurry, we'd be trapped by the flames.

I steered Mantilla to the front of the calf and yelled loudly. "Get on, go! Run, you idiot!" The calf turned around and bolted, with Mantilla and I following quickly behind it. We urged it back into the herd and galloped behind them. We were almost to the town.

The first shanties of the town came into view over the bluff that separated the town and the pastures that we laboured on. I followed the herd over the bluff, yelling loudly to anyone that was listening. "Fire! Fire!"

Men and women started to stream out of their homes, opening their eyes wide with horror as they saw the rapidly approaching inferno. As the cattle stampeded through the town, I watched them run towards the well, grabbing buckets, bowls, anything to use to get water to throw on the fire.

The cattle bellowed in panic as they ran through the streets, and I yelled hoarsely at everyone who was walking through the town. "Get out of the way! The cattle are stampeding! Fire! Fire! Get out of the way!"

A little boy ran behind Mantilla as we galloped through the streets, throwing water at a small patch of flame next to one of the homes. The fire went out, wisps of grey smoke rising from the ashes. With horror, I realized that other patches of flames weren't being put out. There weren't enough people to do it. Instead, they grew, threatening all of the homes in the town. It would go up into ashes.

I herded the cattle through the last couple of streets in the town, racing them towards the family barn. There was a pond there, we could use it to stop Grandfather's and our house from burning to the ground. I watched the cattle stampede into the yard, finally stopping as the comfort of the familiar yard stopped them continuing to run. I leapt off of Mantilla and ran to the house. As I neared, Dad and Grandfather threw open the door and ran out, Dad shrugging on a shirt as he did so. The twins, Courtney and Mariam, raced out after them, leaving the door open for the cats to run out of the house and disappear into a safe space. The twins wore worried looks on their faces, but they quickly turned to relief as they saw me. Finally, Mom closed the door and ran off of the porch, her face paling as she saw the fire looming over the town.

"What on Panem is going on?" Dad demanded, looking worriedly at the raging blaze. The shouts of the town forming a bucket brigade drifted into the yard, carrying with it a feeling of dread.

"The… fields are on… fire… cows… safe, the dogs… herded." I gasped, panting hard from the ride and the smoke that filled my throat. Dad relaxed slightly, and patted me on the back.

"You did good, son. Now, let's get the pond ready for use. Courtney, Miriam, get the hose. Grace, you help them. Dad and I will help Marshall get the cattle." The family sprang into action, running around the fields as we raced to help save our farm. We needed to run as fast as we could. If we didn't, our house could be the next to go up in flames.

 **Carol Farrier, 13, District 10 Female**

"Carol! We need to get all of the meat out of the butcher shop, now!"

I whipped my head up, startled away from the ripped clothes that I had been sewing back together for the past hour. Why would we need to get the meat out of the butcher shop? It stayed in there all of the time, every year, for Dad to sell to the district. It was fine there.

My little brother Bentley burst into the room, talking a mile a minute. "Carol, we need to go now. The town's on fire. We need to help Dad! Come on, you need to help now. Ivy is getting as much meat as she can and taking it out to the cart." I stood up, the clothing forgotten. When Bentley got excited like this, there was always something seriously wrong. I burst out of the house behind the sprinting Bentley, trying to get into the butchery that Papa owned, right next to our house, as fast as I could. Then, I slowed to a stop and gaped in horror at the skyline of our town.

The brightness of the fire shone over the whole town, bathing me in an orange glow. I coughed through the thick smoke seeping into my lungs, trying to choke me, trying to take away the town that I loved so.

I turned around and sprinted back into the house. If the fire was that bad, we didn't need to need to save the meat. We needed to save our possessions from the raging blaze.

I ran into the girl's bedroom first, grabbing a large basket from the ground and dumping out the clothes inside of it. I chose ones for Ivy and me at random, making sure that we had enough, but not too much to overfill the basket. I looked up at the bedroom and saw the glove that my father had given me for my first day of working at the butchery. Should I take it? Should I not? I hesitated, unsure of what to do. Was there enough room? I paused, before grabbing it off of the windowsill and running into my brothers' room. One glove wouldn't make a difference in this situation.

The boys' room was still ok, but I saw the flames flickering outside of the window, threatening to climb into the house. I opened the drawer where my brothers kept their clothes and stuffed in the more used clothing. I took a couple of nicer shirts just to be sure and ran out of the room. I just needed to do my parents room, and I would be done.

I ran through the hallway, smoke drifting into the house. I coughed as I opened the door, and gasped in horror as the curtains that Mom and I had spent long hours sewing together, making sure that they were absolutely perfect, start to go up in flames. They were burning up quickly, the flames destroying my work. I stared, and then grabbed the clothes that Mom and Papa had laid out on their beds, ready to be put away. If there was no fire, I would have put them away with the ripped clothes that I would have finished by now. Then, we would go to dinner, a happy one, with Papa bringing the beef for burgers which we always had on Thursdays, and which Mom would have happily made for the family. There we would sit, all along the family table which Papa had sat at when he was a child, us five kids laughing and poking each other while Mom and Papa talked about the day. It would have been like every Thursday.

I shook my head, clearing my thoughts, and took several sets of clothing for Mom and Papa. I took some of the beautiful antique china that Mom had gotten for her wedding day, and wrapped them quickly in the clothing. I grabbed a pair of earrings for Mom from her dresser before racing out of the door. I needed to get out of the house.

I sprinted through the hallway, the flames licking at the doorways that I had passed through. I paused at the kitchen and emptied the fine silverware into the basket. I grabbed the large money jar full of the spare sesterces that we kept and put it next to the beautiful plates that we kept for special occasions. They were both wrapped in the clothing, cushioned enough so that they wouldn't break when jostled. Then, I turned towards the living room and ran to the door.

I stopped at the couch, looking at the two dresses that I had laid out for ironing. They were both my own, and I would have chosen between the two for the reapings tomorrow. I looked carefully at both, trying to decide between the two. I could only take one. If I took any more clothing or items than that, I wouldn't be able to make it to the door.

I looked at the brown dress that I had worn last year, the one that I had for the past three years of my life. It was a little faded, but serviceable. It had been my go-to dress for the past couple of years. Then, I stared at the frilly white dress that I had received this year for my birthday. Mom and Papa had been secretly scrimping for months to pay the tailor for the dress. It looked perfect, standing against the faded tan couch. It was a pleasant surprise. I had never had clothing of any other colour than brown, red and grey. Those were all that I was used to.

I grabbed the brown dress and ran out of the door. The house continued to go up in flames, but I had saved our possessions. We would have something to wear, something to treasure when the flames died out.

The streets were filled with a bucket brigade of the townspeople, all working together to quench the blaze. Smaller boys ran back with the empty buckets and bowls, back to the well, and I even spotted a hose being carried to the fire.

I caught my little brother Dawson as he ran towards the blaze, seizing him by the collar. The youngest of our family, Egan, crashed into Dawson, falling down with the cup of water he was holding with his chubby little fingers. I scooped Egan up and turned Dawson towards the butchery. "Why are you heading towards the fire? You're attracted to destruction like a moth to a flame, you are. Come on, Mom and Papa probably need our help."

I set Egan down and picked up the basket, taking it towards the butchery. The rest of the family burst out of the doors, Bentley and Ivy carrying some more beef while Papa and Mom opened the doors for them. Mom rushed towards me, and scooped up Egan, kissing him on the head as he tried to squirm away from her.

"Oh, Carol, you're always so sensible. Egan, you can't follow Dawson around everywhere. What am I going to do with you? Dawson, you've got to stay away from that fire. I can't have you get those nice clothes all sooty now, can I?"

I fidgeted with the clothing as Mom praised and reprimanded us, trying to point to the burning house. "Mom, the house is on fire. I couldn't do anything. I'm sorry."

Mom turned to the burning house, gasping as the roof began to burn. She clutched Egan tightly, causing him to try to squirm out of her arms. Mom put Egan down without even glancing at him. She stared at the house, the one that we had lived in for the past 13 years. Dad came up to her and put his hands around her, and Mom buried her face into his shoulders. She started to sob. "Oh, Arlo, the house is aflame. We'll have nowhere to go. We'll be in the streets until we can rebuild. All of the books that we have in there will be gone. Oh, Principal Nero will be so disappointed in me. I couldn't do anything, Arlo. We had to save the butchery."

Papa patted her back, rocking her back and forth as the town raced back and forth with the buckets, trying to quench the blaze. "Shh, Tessa, we'll be alright. You'll see. It's ok. It's ok."

I stared blankly at the house I had grown up in, watching it burn to the ground. It was burning fast, and as I watched, the roof fell in. We would scrape by. We always did. Even if the house was on fire and the town was in ruins, I would find a pattern to follow, to find our way back to a sense of normality. I would make things normal again for my family. We would survive.

 **Marshall Fields, 16, District 10 Male**

The smell of soot lingered in the air as the town walked into the reaping square, ready to start the next reapings. Parts of the town were still ablaze, and my Grandfather and other older men and women were permitted to skip the reaping to help put the fires out. The only satisfaction that we had was the knowledge that rain would come. The clouds were turning into a dark grey, growing large before our eyes and covering the blue sky. It would quench the smouldering hours, and put an end to the nightmare of the last twenty hours.

I rubbed my eyes, trying to forget what had happened to the town. The fire had burned through half of the town, just being stopped by the bucket brigade that I had been helping from reaching the Hall of Justice. Our home had been scorched black by the smoke and the flames, the screened porch that I had always loved to read in burnt to ashes, our living room a sorry version of what it once was. We were the lucky ones. Others had to sleep in the streets for the night, the fire keeping them awake. The wails of young children, sobbing for their homes, kept me up all through the night.

I watched the stage as the mayor, still dressed in the dirty clothes that she had used to work with the bucket brigade, quickly sped through the Treaty of Treason, trying to hurry the reaping along as fast as she could. The district had lost so much already, it was almost salt in the wound to bring in the reapings. So, she had skipped some of the less important parts and had hurried through the personal messages.

Our escort walked hurriedly onto the stage, not bothering with his usual speeches. Chamonix usually spent a couple of minutes trying to rally the crowd, even though no-one would actually listen, but it seemed that he had picked up on what had happened to the capital town of District 10. He had dressed in dark colours, his grey suit only being punctuated with a tan tie. His usual theatrical wigs were replaced with a short black wig, a modest one. Chamonix was mourning with the rest of us as well.

Chamonix nodded at the crowd and picked up the girl's slip, quickly stepping to the microphone to read it out to the crowd. Right now, Courtney and Miriam would be clutching each other's arms, anxious to find out who was reaped. It would break their hearts to be separated from each other, especially in their first year, so we never gave them any extra tesserae. With Grandfather's fortune, we could easily afford to raise ten children without extra tesserae.

"Carol Farrier!"

A thin girl walked out of the thirteen-year-olds, clenching her fists as she walked up to the stage. I noted her brown dress with scuffed black shoes and stockings as she was greeted by Chamonix, and the way she refused to cry. I didn't know many girls at that age who would be able to hold back the tears that were surely brimming in her eyes.

Chamonix stepped towards the boys reaping bowl, grabbing one of the slips at the top of the bowl. He had no theatrics as he opened it, only a small sigh that made its way to the microphone, and a worried look as he watched the billowing smoke rise from the fields. The ruined fields were still smouldering, and our escort obviously noticed. Chamonix finally tore his gaze away from the horizon and quickly read out the name. "Marshall Fields!"

I gasped slightly, trying to make sense of what had happened. Why was my name called? It couldn't be me, could it? Could it?

I watched the peacekeepers make their way through the crowd before me, getting ready to drag me to the stage if necessary. I wouldn't give them the privilege. I walked up to the stage calmly, keeping an impassive look over my terror. It was official. I, Marshall Fields, was heading into the Hunger Games.

 **Carol Farrier, 13, District 10 Female**

I waited to burst into tears until my family arrived in the Goodbye Rooms.

I had held it back throughout the reapings. I smiled slightly at the cameras, gritted my teeth when I shook hands with Chamonix, and held them back when I was jostled through the halls with Marshall. Even though he had kept an impassive face throughout the reapings, I knew he was stunned.

When I was taken into the Goodbye Rooms, I noted the peacekeepers at the windows and at the doors. It was more than what I had heard that usually guarded the tributes, but I accepted it. It was almost laughable that they were protecting tributes until they were put into an arena to kill one another. What on Panem could harm me in here?

The doors suddenly opened, and I burst into tears as my mother rushed into the room, stretching out her arms to comfort me. She was wearing the dress that I had grabbed off of the bed, and it smelled of the perfume she always made sure to put on when she went to a formal event. I sobbed into the dress, breathing in the comforting scent. My family gathered around me, watching me in sorrow.

"No, no, Cawol, you can't cry, you a big girl! Shh, Cawol!" Egan demanded, putting his hand over my mouth. I laughed at his serious face. I couldn't help myself. Egan might have been the youngest person in the family, but he always seemed to know how to break the ice.

I wiped the tears away and embraced Egan, hugging him tightly. "Be good for Mama, ok?"

Egan nodded and smiled at me, grabbing a handful of the candy that was next to the couch. I popped one into my mouth and, just like that, all of the kids gathered around the bowl, snatching as much as they could. I smiled at them, swatting Dawson as he tried to stuff his handful into his pants to hide it from the rest, and offered some to my parents. They shook their heads no, and I smiled, giving the bowl to Ivy so she could divide it evenly among the kids.

My Mom sat down next to me and embraced me, rocking me back and forth on the couch just as Papa did to her yesterday. "Carol, my sweet baby girl, remember to smile in the Capitol. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, Mom," I said, hugging her tightly. She smiled warmly and kissed my forehead, before brushing herself off as she stood up. I stood up and hugged Papa. "I'm sorry that I won't be able to help you in the butchery."

Papa laughed, and stroked my cheek, smiling at me. "Carol, you be your sweet self in the Capitol. But when you get to the Games, remember what I taught you in the butchery. A knife to the ribs can kill just as easily as a mutt."

"Arlo! Not in front of the children!" Mom chided, swatting him on the arm. He laughed and helped to usher the kids out as the peacekeepers notified them that visiting hours were over. Bentley peeked through the closing doors and waved goodbye as the family left, and I waved back. Then, I sat down, smiling through the tears that were streaming down my face.

 _Partings are such sweet sorrow, aren't they, Carol?_

 **Hey guys! I've updated again, and with my longest chapter yet! What did you think of the fire that I sent to District 10's Capital town? I liked it, and I think it helped showcase our character's true personality. What did you think of Carol choosing the brown dress? What do you think about Marshall herding the cattle so wisely? Let me know in a review! We only have 3 reapings and the re-reaping to go, so I am very happy with my pace so far. I hope to finish the reapings by the end of April, and then we can get into the good stuff! Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	13. District 8 Reapings: Caught in the Crowd

**Hollister Cuero, 14, District 8 Female**

The sparks from one of the machines next to my workbench flew onto the newly cut textiles, lighting the flammable fabric quickly. I watched one of the workers next to me curse, grabbing one of the water buckets underneath our table to pour on the blaze, dousing the flames effectively, leaving only smoldering, thoroughly soaked textiles. I didn't know the woman's name. I hadn't even ever talked to her through the two years that I had worked at her table, But when you worked at a textile factory in District 8, you didn't exactly work to make friends. You worked to survive.

The machine screeched, spitting out fabrics with freshly dyed patterns on them. The workers there would have to start to sew the fabric into clothes, turning it into fashionable items for the Capitol. My Da would be feeding the fabric into the machines in one of the other factories, making sure that it wouldn't rip. If you managed to do that to valuable fabric, you lost however much of your paycheck that was needed to replace it.

I kept cutting the fabric on my table, making sure that they were suitable to be sewn together. I passed the pieces on to the next person, who took them and started to sew them together without looking up at me.

 _Crash!_

I cringed as the sounds of yelling rang through the streets outside of the factory, before jumping off of my workbench. A rock sailed through one of the windows next to my workbench, shattering the glass and sending it every which way. I watched in horror as one of the workers next to me started to scream, blood dripping from her face. A shard of glass had embedded into her cheek, spraying blood onto the fabrics that she had been cutting.

Almost as one, all of the workers stood up and started to run out of the factory, tripping over fallen workbenches and shattered glass in their rush to escape. I ran alongside them, ignoring the blaring loudspeakers that were telling us to stay calm and remain at our seats.

"Attention, textile workers for Sylicone Factory! Please remain calm and return to your seats. Attention, textile workers for Sylicone Factory! Please remain calm and return to your seats. Attention… " One of the women running next to me gave the loudspeaker the finger, and we all kept running. No one bothered to listen. It was exhilarating, stampeding through the factory and out into the streets.

I stumbled out of the factory, my shoe missing from the stampede and the adrenaline still running through my veins. The streets were filled with workers, spilling out of the factories and chanting. "We want higher wages! We want an end to the Games! Down with Ember! Down with Ember!"

I covered my ears and tried to shut them out. "No, no, not like Ma," I whispered, shutting my eyes and rocking back and forth. It didn't work, and my ears filled with the anger of the people. Resentment was running throughout all of the workers, asking, no, _demanding_ change. District 8 had never been a district to admire for its safe work conditions, but the past couple of years had brought longer hours and lower wages for the workers. I had watched women starving on the streets as I walked to my home, vainly trying to get their baby to nurse. I watched the child slump over, too tired, too malnourished to eat. The mothers always started to cry after that. They would weep great, howling tears for their child, too small, too weak to survive. They wept grief when their child died in their arms.

The people kept marching, and I was swept up by them, thrown into the middle of the street as if it was a current. Rage and anger radiated off of them, and I tried to get out. "No, no, no," I murmured, pushing against people to try to get to the side of the street. "It's too much, too soon. The peacekeepers are going to come, it'll be just like what happened to Ma… "

The sound of a gunshot confirmed my thoughts, and screams from the front of the street started to grow. I cringed as people tried to turn back around, fighting against the crowd to escape the peacekeepers and their guns. It was no use. We were all fighting against the current, and when you added in that all of us were screaming at the top of our lungs, pleading for mercy, the protest forgotten, it meant that it would be almost impossible to escape the crowd.

"Ahh!" a boy cried next to me, his arm bleeding from a graze from a fired bullet. I hesitated. If I stopped to help him, he might slow me down, leaving me to be the next to get shot.

I grabbed his other arm and dragged him to the side of the street, away from the rampaging crowd. He cried out in pain at my grip, but followed me, eager to escape the horror of the stampede. "Come on, girl! We have to get up onto the roofs! That's the only place we'll be safe. You see out there? That's what happens if you stay below. No one will see us up on top of the roofs. We'll be _free!_ "

The boy slipped out of my grip and ran to the ally on the side of the street, climbing up the fire escape that clung precariously to the side of the factory. It creaked dangerously as he hoisted himself up, but held. "You coming or what?"

I looked up nervously, noting the rust on the bolts holding the fire escape to the side of the building. "I think I'll pass."

The boy nodded, scurrying up to the rooftop as fast as he could. I watched him disappear onto the top of the roof and ran into the ally. My Da would be working on the other street. Would he have left his factory? Was he one of the workers being gunned down by the peacekeepers? What if he was one of the ones lying on the street, their eyes staring glassily into space? I choked down a scream of terror and started to run. I needed to find Da. He was my only family.

I ran through the alley and ran onto the other street, my eyes searching frantically for Da. Where was he? There was the old woman who always tried to give people apples, being dragged away by her son from the peacekeepers, and the man who never smiled, hitting one of the peacekeepers over the head with a board. There was the man who slept outside of our factory, being cuffed by the peacekeepers, and there was a man next to him, shouting at the peacekeeper as he was being cuffed. He had red hair just like mine, sticking out every which way as his face turned bright red with anger at the outrage of himself being arrested. "Da!" I screamed as I ran to him, throwing myself in front of the peacekeeper.

"Woah there, young lady," the peacekeeper said, struggling to cuff my Da. "This man has been arrested for fighting against peacekeepers and illegal protesting. I need to take him to the station for questioning."

"But he's my Da!" I said, tugging at the cuffs as I did so. "He'd never protest against the Capitol! He was just coming home like me!"

The peacekeeper sighed and adjusted his helmet. "Look, I'm sorry if he's your father, but he needs to come for questioning. If he's innocent, he'll come back home to you. Got it?"

Da looked at me, his face turning red again. "Go, Hollister. I'll be back! Just wait for a couple of hours!" he hissed, jerking his head in the direction of our house. I looked at him and held my hands out for the peacekeeper.

"If you want to take him in, I'm coming too," I said, staring at the peacekeeper fiercely. The peacekeeper sighed again and grabbed another pair of cuffs.

"Well, if you're so devoted to your father, you'll be coming too. Now, hurry up! It's best for us to get there before the rest of the peacekeepers make it. It's always so much paperwork to fill out for a riot… "

 **Nehemiah Bunting, 15, District 8 Male**

I jumped into the truck, raising my hands up in surrender as the peacekeepers shoved me into the back, next to the rest of the people that they had picked up from the riot. A rancid odor drifted throughout the truck, likely the remains of vomit from drunks and morphling addicts picked up throughout the district during the past couple of nights. The wooden sides of the back were marked with the signatures of people who had ridden in the back like we were right now, and the top, a frayed sheet covering the sides, was stained with dark water stains and red stains that looked suspiciously like blood.

I shuddered and traced with my finger one of the signatures carved into the wooden seat that I had been thrown onto. It was old and faded, just like everything else in here. We were all fading away into our district, doomed to be trapped in our fear of the Capitol and poverty. Soon enough, I would end up like some of the older people in the truck. They had no hope in their eyes, just a weariness that seemed to tire you when you looked into them.

I turned to my side to see who I was sitting next to. A little boy was sitting next to me and sobbing into a stuffed bear, clutching it for dear life. He was a tiny little thing, with brown locks of hair hanging over his forehead and blotches of freckles staining his skin. He couldn't have been more than six years old, yet he looked older than his years. District 8 did that to you. I reached into my backpack and brought out the shiny red apple that I had been saving for home. I handed it to the boy. "Are you hungry?"

The boy looked up suspiciously from his bear, his eyes stained with the tears that he had been sobbing. He nodded slowly and once he took a hold of the apple, he launched into it, devouring it like it was the first thing he had eaten for a week. I laughed and tousled the boy's hair. "Not so fast! You're going to get sick!"

The boy slowed down, but only a little. Soon enough, the apple was down to its core, and the boy passed it to me. I tossed it out of the back of the truck, two stray dogs wandering the streets pouncing on it instantly. I watched them fight over the core, before running out of the way as another truck rumbled by, the core forgotten. "What's your name? I'm Nehemiah, but you can call me Hem."

The boy looked up. "Nehemiah?" he said, letting the word roll around his tongue. "I think I like saying Hem better. I've never met a Nehemiah before."

I laughed. "That's what most people say. I guess my Mom liked names like mine. My Dad always said that she loved big words. It's only fitting my name is one of those that she loved."

The boy thought about that, pondering the thought. "My name's Rob. My Mom said she named me that because Dad robbed her heart and then broke it in half. She says that Dad is just a low-key idiot who likes to party and drink with fat as-"

I covered the boy's mouth, chuckling nervously. "Maybe we shouldn't talk about our families. How did you end up here, Rob?"

Rob's eyes started to well up again, and I knew that I struck a nerve. "I was walking with Mom to the stores when everyone started to come out of the big buildings, and they were all shouting things about fire, and then the peacekeepers came, and Mom went away! And- and-" Rob was on the verge of tears now, and he held his bear tighter. I held him as he started to sob again, waiting for him to finish wailing for his mother. He finally stopped, just in time for the truck to stop in front of the station. The peacekeeper who had pushed us in came to the back of the truck, opening the tailgate for us.

"Come on, all of you. You're coming into the station. Hurry up, now!"

We all jumped out of the truck and trudged into the peacekeeper headquarters, some of the older men and women clutching bleeding arms and legs as they walked alongside us. I walked next to Rob, making sure that he wouldn't be lost in the crowd of people. He didn't deserve to be all alone in the crowd.

One of the women walking next to me suddenly stumbled, falling down onto the floor. She was ignored by the rest of the people, who walked around, over, and away from her. If you were considered weak, you were ignored by them.

I stooped down to the woman and helped her up, putting my arm around her as she struggled to stay on her feet. Her right leg was bandaged heavily, with tinges of pink seeping through the bandage. "Thank you," she groaned, walking next to me as we walked to the cells where we would be held until someone would either illegally pay to get us out, or if we were deemed to not have been a part of the riots. Rob tagged along behind us, and I continued to help the woman. "What's your name?"

"Thimble," she said, hobbling into one of the cells, where the peacekeepers shut the barred door with a clang. "Thank you, young man! It's not often that you find help in District 8. How did a nice young man like yourself end up getting arrested by the peacekeepers?"

I shrugged my shoulders and grinned. "I was walking home from school when I got caught in the riot. I'm lucky that it didn't end early. If it did, I might have been caught at the front."

The woman gasped in shock of what could have been and put a hand over her heart. "Well, it's good that you didn't leave early. Hey, does anyone have something to eat in this dump? I'm starving!"

A resounding agreement followed from the rest of the people in our cell, and people instantly started to bring out food. I brought out the leftover sandwich that I had kept in my bag, one lady brought out chips that she had been saving for her family, and one man brought out several bars of chocolate, winking at me and saying, "Let's just say that the peacekeepers don't keep a great eye on their food supply." I accepted it, and that's how I ended up sitting on the floor of the cell, eating dinner with the rest of the people in our cell, chatting as if we were seated at a grand dining table.

A sudden rap on the bars startled me from the beef jerky I was eating. I looked up before leaping up to embrace my father. "You came!" I said, hugging him tightly. Dad laughed, stroking my hair.

"Nehemiah, I'm so glad you're safe! I've been looking everywhere. The streets, the school, the house, the morg-" he said before starting to choke up, squeezing me tightly. I hugged him tighter, tears glistening in my eyes as well. Dad suddenly cleared his throat and opened the door. "Nehemiah, I've bribed the guards to turn a blind eye so that I can get you out of here. Come on! They've only agreed to a couple of more minutes."

I walked to the door before pausing. I looked back at the people that I had been eating with, people who that I had just learned about. Every one of them had a story. None of them deserved to be locked away. I looked at Rob, who had started to tear up again.

"Dad, we have to take the rest of them. The guards turned a blind eye, right? Then they won't care about a whole cell of people leaving." Dad paused, looking at all of the people who were sitting in the cell, daring him to leave them behind. He glanced at the woman who I had helped up when she fell in the crowd, looked at the man who had given the chocolate bars, and finally turned to Rob. I looked up at him, pleading him to let them come. "Please?"

Dad sighed, opening the doors. "We'll have to move fast. Ok, everyone?"

The crowd cheered, moving towards the doors, to freedom. I helped up the woman with the bleeding leg, and we walked towards the doors. None of us would have to rot in a cell tonight.

 **Hollister Cuero, 14, District 8 Female**

I stared blearily at our escort, Lavendine, walking out onto the stage, smiling cheerily at us all. I had spent the night awake with Da in the cell, and it wasn't the ideal place to sleep. We had been released on the terms that it was reaping day today, and I had just enough time to run to the house and put on some acceptable clothes for the reaping. Now I was standing in with all of the other fourteen-year-olds, wishing vainly that I hadn't thrown on clothes with the lights off. I had chosen a purple polka-dot dress, but I had somehow paired that with blue stockings and red shoes. I looked like a misfit among all of the other girls in my section.

Lavendine had chosen a red velvet dress for this occasion and had dyed her hair a red colour as well to match it. She smiled happily at us all, seemingly unaware of the tragedy of yesterday. The cameras wouldn't show it to the rest of the districts and the capitol, but if you looked closely, you could see girls and boys with wrapped arms and legs, with patches of blood staining them. If you looked closer, you could see the anger almost radiating off of the adults in the back, all angry of the fact that the reaping would commence like normal after the slaughter of yesterday. If you looked even closer, you could see specks of blood and dirt on some dresses and shirts, signs of having buried a relative. The tears that usually brimmed on the children's eyes were tinged with sorrow, with hatred. District 8 was angry.

Lavendine tapped the microphone to make sure that it was still working, even though our mayor had been reciting the Treaty of Treason just moments before, and I almost laughed in disbelief. Capitolites were so ditzy, it would be a wonder that they didn't lose their heads if their head wasn't attached to their body. Lavendine smiled as the thump echoed throughout the square, and started to speak. "Hello, citizens of District 8! I hope that we are all having a splendid day today!"

One of the men in the back of the square started to swear at Lavendine, and we all turned around to watch him get dragged out of the square by the peacekeepers. A muffled shot echoed in the background, and I shivered. Lavendine looked to the back of the square in concern, before going back to talking, a bit quieter and more rushed this time. "We're going to reap our two tributes now! I'll start with the girls, as always!"

Lavendine walked quickly over to the reaping bowl, swishing the slips in it all around before grabbing one of them in the middle. I flinched, worriedly looking at the slip that she had chosen. I hadn't taken tesserae like some of the other people in the square, but my name was still in there eight times. It could be me ascending to the stage.

"Hollister Cuero! Could you please come up to the stage, please!" Lavendine called, looking at the crowd. I squealed in disbelief and covered my mouth with my hands.

"No, no, no, this isn't happening, this isn't what should happen," I whispered, clutching myself and walking up slowly to the stage. I could feel the eyes watching me. The cameras were undoubtedly zooming in, catching the first glimpse of the girl from 8. I could see the other kids in my section, some glancing in pity, others smiling in relief. But it wasn't them who was heading up to the stage to be presented. It was me.

 **Nehemiah Bunting, 15, District 8 Male**

I cried when my name was drawn.

I didn't care that I was showing that I was weak to all of Panem, that I might be losing sponsors because of my actions. I just wanted to be somewhere else. Anywhere else.

I had walked up to the stage and sobbed into the microphone when Lavendine tried to get me to speak. After the girl who had been reaped just stared at the crowd and refused to speak to Lavendine, just hiding her face in her hands, the crowd must have felt relieved when we were taken into the Hall of Justice. Not just because they didn't have to see their own children reaped, it was because we had made the whole crowd absolutely miserable.

I had walked with the peacekeepers, sobbing silently as we walked to the goodbye rooms. It would only be my father coming to see me when I was reaped. He was my only family left.

I had sat down in the room and sobbed into a pillow, not caring about the armed peacekeepers who were standing inside of the room. It was usually private for the goodbye rooms, but after the riot that had swept our city, it made sense that they were making sure that we didn't cause any trouble. After all, I had been arrested yesterday, and peacekeepers didn't care that I had been caught up in the riot when I was walking home. They only cared that I was caught by them. Now, I was starting to stop crying, and I sat up. I was out of tears.

My father burst into the room, almost hitting the peacekeepers with the doors as he rushed to me. "Nehemiah! Nehemiah, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have let you take those tesserae, you would be back home if it wasn't for me. I'm so sorry!" Dad started to cry, hugging me tightly as he did so. I started to sob too and hugged him tightly.

"It was my fault, Dad. It's ok. You can't beat yourself up about it."

Dad stopped crying, holding me tightly in his arms. "You're strong, Nehemiah, stronger than you think. Come back home to me. I can't lose you like I did Bianca… "

Dad stopped, holding me tightly with silent tears falling from his eyes. He slipped something into my pocket and we rocked back and forth, unwilling to let go until the peacekeepers knocked at the door to bring Dad out. I waved goodbye to him, tears still streaming from my eyes.

Surprisingly, Rob, the woman I had helped up, and the man who had given us the chocolate came to say goodbye. Rob came running into the room, his mom with him, and he had hugged me while his mom, a nice lady named Genevieve, thanked me over and over for taking care of Rob when he was in the prison. The woman and the man came in together, and both had given me chocolate. They winked at me, and then left the room, leaving me alone with the chocolate and the thing Dad had given me.

I looked down at the rounded object that he had given me. I smiled and held it close. My mother would be with me in the arena, in part of the dresses that she had loved so.

 **Hey guys! I came through with another reaping in less than a week, so I'm pretty happy! I'll try to update next on my birthday ;) Thanks to Kealimepie and Elim9 for these great tributes!**

 **If you haven't heard or looked at my profile page, yes, I am having a sponsor system for Distorted. It's down here, and you can see how it works for everyone! Hopefully you guys enjoy it, and you'll see how everyone is doing at the bottom. Some people are miles ahead of others...**

 **Rules/How to get Sponsor Points**

1st Tribute Submitted= 40 Points

2nd Tribute Submitted= 15 Points

3rd Tribute Submitted= 10 Points

4th Tribute Submitted= 5 Points

Newcomer who wants to use the sponsor system= 10 Points

Review (No Matter How Short or Long it is)= 5 Points

 _Training Scores_

1= 5 Points/2= 5 Points

3= 5 Points/4= 10 Points

5= 10 Points/6= 10 Points

7= 15 Points/8= 15 Points

9= 15 Points/10= 20 Points

11= 25 Points/12= 30 Points

 **Sponsor Items and Value {Subject to change}**

Crackers= 25 Points

1/2 Litre of Water= 30 Points

1 Litre of Water= 40 Points

1 Apple= 25 Points

Bread= 40 Points

Soup= 35 Points

Beef Jerky= 30 Points

Alcohol= 50 Points

Energy Drink= 35 Points

Steak Dinner= 60 Points

Custom Meal (Your Choice)= 65 Points

Cupcakes= 40 Points

Icecream= 50 Points

1 Egg= 35 Points

Bandages= 50 Points

First Aid Kit= 80 Points

Needle and Thread= 40 Points

Matches= 55 Points

Glass Bottle= 40 Points

Rags= 40 Points

Kerosene= 40 Points

Aspirin= 35 Points

Custom Medicine= 75 Points

Tent= 105 Points

Rubber Lifeboat= 100 Points

Sun Hat= 50 Points

Regular Knife= 40 Points

Strange Spyglass= 225 Points (Not a typo)

1 Throwing Knife= 40 Points

Bow and 5 Arrows= 80 Points

1 Arrow= 35 Points

Sword= 75 Points

Spear= 70 Points

Mace= 65 Points

Axe= 70 Points

Hatchet= 60 Points

Trident= 80 Points

Sais= 65 Points

2 Daggers= 60 Points

Guaranteed Survival to the Final Three= 10 000 Points

 **Sponsor Points List (For Now)**

TheBestGemini= 60 Points

HoshiNyanGirl= 40 Points

The Girl With The Knives= 80 Points

brooke2214= 55 Points

Yyvonee= 45 Points

66samvr= 120 Points

Elim9= 70 Points

Foxfaceisthebest= 40 Points

iridescenteverdeen= 95 Points

Kealimepie= 70 Points

GreyWolf44= 90 Points

District 9 Tribute= 65 Points

BladeIsMyPenname= 40 Points

AmericanPI= 65 Points

BabyRue11= 40 Points

Sparky She-Demon= 45 Points

RoadieMcRoadface = 15 Points

SilverflowerXRavenpaw= 70 Points

 **Well, that's the system! Hopefully, you guys like it, and I'll see you with our last two reapings! (and the District 3 re-reaping, but that's tiny!) Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	14. District 1 Reapings: Never Enough

**Taffeta Paisley, 18, District 1 Female**

The quicksand started to swallow me up, enveloping my entire body. It was swallowing me whole, taking me away from everything I had worked for, taking me away from everything that I lived for. I was going to die in it if I didn't manage to find my way out. I breathed slowly, letting the air in slowly, before releasing it out. I was always told by my instructors that if I was ever caught in quicksand, I had to relax. Relaxing in quicksand would stop my body from sinking into the quicksand, even more, letting me be able to move my way back up to the surface and get out. Struggling would only make me sink in even deeper.

 _And if I kept going deeper, I might not be able to make it back up…_

I slowly arched my back backward, trying to change the position of my body. I needed to get into a lying position on top of the quicksand if I wanted to have any chance of escaping this nightmare. If I could do that, I would be able to find a way out.

Slowly but surely, my body bent backward until I was lying on top of the quicksand, lying still and breathing deeply. I slowly raised my right arm up and turned it back as if I was swimming. I did the same for my left arm, and I moved throughout the quicksand quickly, feeling my body float on top of the muddy sand. All I had to do now was roll out until I reached dry ground, and I would be home free. I was going to make it! I was going to survive! I was-

Rain started to pour down from the sky and splashed my face. I sputtered and screamed as it fell onto me, trying to spit out the water that I had just inhaled. I splashed in the quicksand from the shock, and I sank into the quicksand. Screaming, I tried to claw my way back up to the surface. I needed oxygen. I needed to breathe! I needed to get back up to the top of the quicksand and get out of the idiotic sand that I had fallen into!

My head sank into the quicksand, and I saw the last of the light of the sky disappear as the quicksand engulfed me. I was going to die. I was going to drown in freaking mud, for goodness sakes! My family would be so embarrassed.

A strong hand grabbed my arm and lifted me up easily out of the quicksand simulator, tossing me onto the side of the sand. Sputtering, I spat out the sand I had swallowed during my struggle to get back up to the surface. "Why on Panem did you start the rain? You idiot, I was about to make it out of the quicksand! This is why I'll end up dying in the arena. If I've fallen into some silly trap in the arena, I'm going to blame it on you for hindering my preparations."

The instructor, Victorio, gave a deep chuckle, winking at me as he tossed me a towel. "You've been practicing every single survival station that the Academy for Intuitive Minds has to offer. You just failed because you got scared by a little bit of rain, Taffeta. That would look really great in the arena. Can you imagine the headlines? Volunteer from One dies in the rain! Girl from One scared to death by water! Taffeta gets soaked, gets killed! That would look really great up on your parent's wall."

I spat some sand out onto his gleaming new shoes for good measure, and stood up, trying to maintain a regal position even though I was caked with mud. "Well, I'm taking a long shower. You can tax it to the Academy if I wreck the water bill." I walked away from Victorio, the mud on my feet leaving a trail all the way to the showers. I didn't look back. There were cleaners for the academy for a reason.

I took off my mud-soaked uniform, wrinkling my nose in distaste at the mess it was. It was going to leave such horrible marks on my skin. I should have never agreed to do that one last training exercise with Victorio. He was always trying to make me do things that wouldn't have any effect on me in the arena. As if they would actually feature quicksand after it being used only four years ago! It would be a big no-no in the eyes of the Capitol, repeating the same trick twice in only a few years. Game makers got fired for not showing creativity. There would be very different things in the arena this year, or else the Capitol would demand a fresh new team to design next year's arena.

Fifteen minutes later, I stepped out of the shower, pulling on a spare training outfit and walking out of the doors. The mud was gone, just like I expected, and one of the younger recruits standing outside, waiting for me to emerge from the showers. He smiled in relief when I stepped out and launched into his message instantly. "Headmaster Quick wants to see you and Vexx in his office right now. He wants to congratulate you both for becoming the chosen volunteers for this year. He wants you in his office right-"

"Woah!" I said, holding my hand up and putting my towel over his shoulder. "All in good time, Tim. I'll take my time walking there. After all, they chose me to be the volunteer for District 1 months ago. They can surely wait a couple of more minutes for me to arrive. Now, put my towel away, and I'll walk over."

Tim nodded, racing into the shower room to put my towel away. I walked around the corner, and paused, waiting to hear the footsteps of Tim running down the hallway. Soon enough, the thumps of his footsteps echoed throughout the halls, and I shrank behind a pillar, waiting.

"Boo!" I yelled, jumping out in front of a frightened Tim. He screamed and jumped back, falling to the ground.

"You should have seen the look on your face!" I laughed, stepping over Tim to make my way to Headmaster Quick's office. "Honestly Tim, if you want to have any chance of being chosen as a volunteer, you can't be jumpy like that. You've got to be ready for any situation."

And with that, I walked into the office, winking at the frowning Tim as I closed the door. Headmaster Quick and Vexx were already there, waiting for me to take a seat with both of them. "Ah! Ms. Paisley!" Headmaster Quick said, watching me with a detached gaze. "So kind of you to join me and Mr. Mortem at this hour."

I smiled primly and sat down next to Vexx, not taking my eyes off of Headmaster Quick. He was only a couple of years older than both of us, at the young age of 21, but he had a presence about him that demanded respect from anyone he met. No one ever spoke out of turn when they met with Headmaster Quick.

Headmaster Quick looked down at us sternly, watching to see if either of us would flinch. We didn't. He cleared his throat, and then brought out some papers on his desk. "I've summoned you here today to talk to you personally about your achievement. I understand that you were chosen after our annual tournament last winter, but I haven't officially gotten the chance to speak to either of you personally. First of all, let me congratulate you on becoming the chosen volunteers for the entire academy."

We both nodded, tensely watching his face. Headmaster Quick always had a serious poker face, but that didn't stop us from trying to read his expressions. We had been trained in it for years, after all. He took the papers and handed them out to us. On them were the faces of several teens, staring intently at both of us. "Do you know who these are?" he asked, staring at us intently.

"Umm, that's… Valour from the 14th Hunger Games," Vexx said, looking at the sheet of the paper intensely. "He was the one who was killed protecting the girl from Two."

"And this is Brilliance from the 10th Hunger Games. She died because she was too confident that the cannon fodder from Three wouldn't end up electrocuting her in the finale." I added, making sure that Headmaster Quick realized that I remembered my history just as well as Vexx did.

"And why did I have you look at them?" Headmaster Quick asked, taking the pictures of the two back and slipping them back inside of his desk. I fingered my christening ring, touching the four gems set into it. There was the amethyst my father picked for me for quick-wittedness, the diamond for the beauty they saw in me as an infant, the pearl for my calm nature, the opal for the enthusiasm I had for life, and the most important of all, the ruby for the sacrifice I would make by entering the arena. I thought long and hard, looking over at Vexx, who was rubbing his temples and trying to think. We needed to get the right answer if we wanted any chance of impressing Headmaster Quick. He looked at us with daring eyes, challenging us to convince him to put effort into bringing us back. This could be the only way for us to have a chance of surviving the Games. If we got this wrong, Headmaster Quick would turn his back on us, giving up on our chances of winning. He was notorious for doing so. It was whispered about in our District that last year the volunteers had gotten this question wrong, and he did everything in his power to discourage sponsors from sponsoring them. The girl died in the bloodbath, slain by the victor, and the boy starved to death in the second week.

"To… show us of the mistakes of our District's past?" Vexx whispered nervously, looking at Headmaster Quick for approval.

"So that we can learn from those mistakes," I said, flashing my eyes and grinning at Headmaster Quick. He grinned slightly at me and fingered his own christening ring.

"You're correct. When you're in the arena, when you're almost dead from exhaustion and you need to make that one decision that might cost you your life if you're wrong, you need to remember our past and use it to guide your choices. That's the District One way."

"That's the District One way," we repeated, nodding our heads at Headmaster Quick. It was what we were taught ever since we were small children, still too young to walk. We learned from the mistakes of our past, to correct our future.

 **Luxx Mortem, 18, District 1 Male**

 _Twelve Years Ago_

I tiptoed to the living room, following my brother as we tried to get to the TV. Mom and Dad were long asleep by now, snoring their heads off as they lay in their bed. That meant it was the perfect time for us to watch the show that they wouldn't let us watch this afternoon. Vexx grabbed the remote, and I turned on the TV for him. Vexx flicked through the channels, looking for the name of the show that they were watching. "What was it again, Luxx? Eating Game?"

"I think it was Starving," I said, staring at the channels as they flicked across the screen. "What do you think it will be about? Cooking?"

"Oh, please," Vexx laughed as he flicked through channels, searching for the elusive show. "We watch Mom cook all the time in the kitchen. The worst thing that happens is when she cuts the smelly cheese. It can't be that. Maybe they eat animals… alive!"

I gasped in shock, hugging the stuffed elephant that I had brought out with me to my chest tightly.

"The poor animals! I hope it's not."

"Is so!" Vexx retorted as he found the channel, pointing at the screen. "There it is! Told you that it would be Hunger, not starving, nimrod. Now, let's find out what it is!"

"You said eating!" I sneered, mocking Vexx. He growled at me before turning his attention to the screen. "Woah!"

"Woah!" I repeated, watching a girl grab a sword and swing it into the side of a little boy. The ruby blood sprayed onto the snowed-over ground, leaving a crimson mark. I gulped, watching another little boy run away from the big golden structure, running away into the swirling snow in the distance. "Vexx, I don't like this. I don't like this very much."

Vexx watched the screen, his eyes transfixed on a boy who was stabbing the ice frantically. It cracked, and he floated away into the icy water. His eyes gleamed with excitement, and he turned to me. "I want to do that when I'm old enough. Do you think I could do it, Luxx?"

"Oh please!" I said, making sure that Vexx didn't get too full of himself. "You'd have to practice lots and lots to do that."

We both turned back to the TV, watching more kids falling into the water, leaving only the boy floating on the water. A big hovercraft landed right next to him, and he was carried into the hovercraft, shivering horribly all the way. It took off once more, leaving behind the bodies of the rest of the kids. The TV cut to the boy sitting on a couch, talking to a man with funny hair. He looked less cold now.

Vexx turned off the TV, excitedly tiptoeing back to our room. We both crawled back into our beds, both unable to sleep; for very different reasons.

 _Present_

I walked through the dark of the town, walking towards the Academy for Intuitive Minds. District One might seem glimmering and beautiful when it was time for the reapings, but in the dark of the night, when no one was watching us, the ugly parts started to show once more. I watched one of the beggars try to sleep on a piece of cardboard that he had salvaged from the garbage dumps, shivering against the cool wind that flowing throughout the town. No one cared about him. They only cared about their next pathetic volunteer, trying to make sure that they could finally catch up to District 4 in terms of victors. Even though we were supposed careers, we still only had one Victor. If you looked closely at District One, you realized that we were just as weak as the rest of the Districts.

I fingered my torn clothing, trying to not shiver from the wind blowing through the streets. My clothes were never clean anymore. Not like before.

I kept walking, looking for the spot in the fence that Vexx and I had climbed into a couple of years ago, looking to see what our first Victor, Ben Quick, was building. That was how I would find my way into the Academy.

 _Three Years Ago_

Vexx and I ran through the town, towards the sound of heavy machinery and drilling. Nothing big ever happened in the Capital town of District One, just repairs, and additions to households. This was something else. This was something big.

We ran along the large wooden fence, trying to look at it and see what was being built. Vexx let me try to stand on his shoulders, trying to get me high enough to look over the fence. It was too tall. I jumped back down, and we kept looking for a spot to find a place to look through. We wanted to get in.

"Look, Luxx!" Vexx cried, pointing at a loose board in the fence. He kicked it, and it moved. Vexx pushed it out of the way, and he made his way through the small hole that was made from the loose board. "Come on, Luxx! Or are you _scared_?"

I slid through the hole, tiptoeing onto a beautiful lawn with all sorts of bushes and flowers planted over it. In the middle of the lawn stood a huge mansion, the siding being put up as we watched. I dove into one of the bushes after Vexx, and we silently watched the workers put up the siding and carry in various appliances and furniture.

"Luxx!" whispered Vexx, pointing at an open door on the opposite side of the workers. "Let's sneak in and see what the fuss is all about!"

I grinned and ran ahead of Vexx, sprinting towards the door. Whenever a worker turned towards us, we fell into the grass or hid behind a bush, waiting until he decided it was just an animal. Then, we kept on sprinting, running into the door quickly. I closed it silently, and we walked through a long hallway, staring at the rooms along the way. "What do you think that room is for?" Vexx whispered, pointing at a big room with double doors. I peered in and saw all sorts of weapons and gym equipment.

"Maybe it's for the victor. He seems like the kind of person who'd like to stay fit." I said, walking into the room.

Vexx quickly followed, grabbing one of the swords on a rack as he did so. "En garde!" he said, pointing the sword at me. I laughed and grabbed another, holding it up defensively. We walked around in circles, both pretending to go for the other. Then, Vexx charged at me, and I held up my sword, stopping him from hitting me. We kept crashing our swords together, trying to get the edge on each other. Vexx knocked the sword out of my hand, holding his sword at me. "I guess I win. You give up yet?"

I frowned, diving to the floor and grabbing my sword. "I won't give up just yet." I stood up, pretending to move into a defensive position before I suddenly kicked Vexx in the back of his knee and knocked him over. I held up my sword over him, touching him lightly on the stomach. "Who's the winner now? Me, that's who!"

"Cheater!" Vexx spat at me before paling suddenly and standing up. "Hide! There's someone in the halls!"

We both dove behind a rack, the swords forgotten in our rush to hide from whoever was roaming the halls. The person walked in and tapped their foot, obviously noticing the swords that we had abandoned on the floor. They walked over and picked them up, putting them on the rack that we had hidden behind. There they paused, looking at something. I held my breath in anticipation before squealing as the person grabbed both of us by our collars, dragging us out from behind the rack. The amused face of Ben Quick watched us wryly as we both stood up, embarrassed to have been caught. "Now, now, now, here are two little men, just when I was looking for someone to help me use these weapons up!"

"What do you mean?" I asked, my curiosity drowning my nervousness of meeting face to face with District One's only victor. Quick laughed and patted our heads. "How would you boys like to be able to help out your District by volunteering for those who wouldn't be able to defend themselves in the Hunger Games?"

"You mean like District Two?" Vexx asked, his eyes lighting up like the first time we watched the Games. Quick nodded and picked up a knife from one of the racks. "If you spread the word to all of the kids at school, all of your friends, all of your neighbours, you all will be able to do that. At the least, you're learning valuable lessons on how to defend yourself in a fight. What do you think?"

I smiled and shook Quick's outstretched hand, shaking it firmly. "It's a deal."

 _Present_

I spat on the ground as I slipped through the old and worn hole in the fence, running across the lawn silently. Only a couple of lights flickered in the Academy, a couple of students and instructors still leaving the academy after practising a couple of moves and such. What a bunch of idiots, wasting away their precious years for a fleeting chance of trying to be selected. If they didn't, they would be stuck working away in the mines or the factories, only focusing on one thing for the rest of their lives.

I opened the door that we had snuck into three years ago, closing it quietly. It closed silently, and I walked through the halls, slipping into the training room. The place was deserted, save the showers. I walked into the shower room and listened to the sound of Vexx showering, getting ready to go home before his big day tomorrow. I listened to the shower run and then grabbed his clothes before leaving the room. As the shower turned off, I walked out of the training room and closed the door, bolting it closed. No one would be here to open it. There were no guards here, and Quick had left home after his usual speech to the chosen volunteers. Vexx would be trapped until after the reaping, unable to get there.

I listened to the sound of footsteps running to the door, and then the sound of my twin trying to force open the doors. He started to shout, yelling for someone to help him get out. I listened silently to his screams and then walked out of the academy. Vexx was officially trapped.

 _Six Months Ago_

"This is so stupid!" I shouted, throwing my jacket to the floor as I read the designated tributes for this year's Games.

 _Chosen Male Volunteer: Vexx Mortem, 18_

 _Designated Replacement: Luxx Mortem, 18_

 _Second Designated Replacement: Obsidian de Luce, 18_

 _Chosen Female Volunteer: Taffeta Paisley, 18_

 _Designated Replacement: Diamonique Kingsbury, 18_

 _Second Designated Replacement: Bernadette Rose, 16_

Vexx pumped his fist in the air, rejoicing in his victory. "I'm going to be a volunteer! Dad's gonna be so proud. Isn't it great, Luxx?"

I frowned at him, clenching my fists together. "I'm the stronger overall. The only reason you got picked is that you can beat me in a fight most of the time. I'd survive much longer than you. I should obviously be the volunteer."

Vexx winked at me, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "And you'd lose half of the fanbase, half of the sponsors because you're, well, more interested in the careers that wouldn't want you than the ones that do, if you know what I mean. I'm the better pick as the volunteer."

I punched Vexx in the nose, grinning as I heard the satisfying crack of his nose breaking. Blood spilled all over his uniform, staining it horribly. Vexx howled in pain, staggering back and clutching his nose. I grinned and grabbed a dagger. "I want a rematch. Winner takes the volunteer spot."

The instructors rushed towards Vexx, protecting them from me, but Vexx pushed them away. "Sure. I'll show you who's the better Mortem."

The instructors hesitated, unsure of what to do, but Headmaster Quick walked up to us. "Let the boys fight, Andrew and Harv. I'm interested in what will happen. The rules stand as they are; winner takes all."

We both stalked into the ring, Vexx grabbing a dagger to match mine, and we growled at each other. The instructors nodded, and we charged at each other, ready to spill more blood. Vexx got the first blood, a small nick on my arm, causing me to jump back. I spat on the floor and charged again, nicking him on the face. Vexx yelled and slashed me on the leg, causing it to bleed deeply. He kept attacking, forcing me to retreat further and further behind. Finally, he hit my dagger ferociously, knocking it out of my hand and letting it skid away onto the floor. He pushed me over and stood on my chest, heaving for breath. "Who's… the better… Mortem? Me! Say… it, Luxx. Say it!"

I grinned, pointing at his face. "Judging by that vicious wound on your face, Vexxie, you aren't in any condition to win this match. Doesn't it burn?"

Vexx clutched his hand to his face, feeling what must have been a burning sensation racing throughout his face. "What.. did... you… do?"

I smiled, standing up and pushing him to the floor. "Poison can so easily be bought in apothecaries, my dear Vexx. You might not know the common flower wolfsbane. These things send a burning sensation throughout your body when touched. Imagine what it'll do in your bloodstream!"

Vexx tried to struggle up, desperately trying to reach the dagger which I had spread the mashed wolfsbane onto. I grabbed it's handle and held it over him. "Looks like I'm the better Mortem, doesn't it Vexx? I think I'll take your top spot now."

The instructors rushed at me, knocking me away from Vexx. "You idiot! You know that you aren't supposed to use poison in fights! It's strictly prohibited. That just cost you the match, young man!"

I growled at them, holding the dagger in my hand and trying to stab them. It bounced off of their protective suits, clattering onto the floor. One of the men punched me in the face, sending me sprawling onto the floor. "You aren't welcome here anymore. Get out!"

I stood up slowly, glaring at the whole room. Most of the other students shrank away from me, scared of what I could do to them. My brother was trying to stand up, instructors helping him to stay on his feet. Headmaster Quick was the only one not frowning at me, instead watching me almost curiously. I saw a twinkle in his eyes, replaced with a sober look. I glared furiously at all of them, letting them know my fury. Then, I ran out of the room, out of the academy, out of my old life. I wasn't wanted anymore.

 _Present_

I stood in the crowd in my brother's clothes, smiling confidently as our escort Gladys reached her hand into the boy's reaping bowl. Taffeta had already volunteered, lunging forward and smiling joyfully as she yelled her name to the district. Mom and Dad would be standing in the crowd, waiting for their precious little Vexx, their favourite son, to volunteer and bring pride and honour to District 1. The escort took out the slip and opened it, clearing her throat to read it out to the District. "Arthur Ramsay!"

"I volunteer as tribute!" I yelled, walking out confidently from my section up to the stage. As I walked, other kids nodded their head in admiration, some clapping as I ascended up to the stage in my brother's clothes. Gladys smiled and clapped her hands in delight. "And what is your name, young man?"

"Luxx Mortem," I said, watching the excited District suddenly pause, unsure of who their precious volunteer was. "That's right, I'm Luxx Mortem. You good with that? Or should I spell it out for you?"

 **Taffeta Paisley, 18, District 1 Female**

I gasped as Luxx took his place next to me, smirking at all of District One. I saw my parents in the crowd, both in shock that it wasn't his brother that was taking his place next to me. Luxx had been kicked out of the academy after poisoning his brother and had been kicked out of his house by his parents as well. He was living in the streets from what I had heard of him, resorting to begging and stealing to survive. Where was his brother? I scanned the crowd for Vexx, looking at the face of every boy in the eighteen-year-old section. None of them had the same strong jaw and spattering of freckles that Vexx and Luxx shared, none had the feline grace that I always noted when I sparred with Vexx. Luxx had done something to Vexx to make sure that he wasn't able to come to the reapings.

I glared at Luxx, who was smirking at the confused crowd, unaware of the dirty look that I was giving him. He looked over slightly and smirked at me, obviously thinking that I was confused about what had happened. I smiled at him and he looked away, going back to smirk at the crowd once more. He would have no ally in me.

We were soon escorted by the peacekeepers to the Goodbye rooms, and I watched Luxx disappear into the first one. I laughed. If his parents had the same feeling about this that they did about him poisoning his brother, they would make sure that no one would visit him today.

I walked into my room and waited for the pounding of my sisters running down the hall, running to find me. They soon burst into the room, coming towards me and hugging me fiercely. I smiled, confused about why they had chosen today to be so emotional. My question was answered when I heard the crinkling of candy wrappers being opened, and I pushed Ruffle and Lace off of me. They smiled with chocolate smeared all over their faces, and I laughed. My sisters had no self-control when it came to candy.

Mom and Dad came up to me and hugged me awkwardly, unsure of how to express their emotions to my volunteering. We had talked about it lots over the last few months, after all, especially since I had been so enthusiastic about being chosen. This was just a goodbye until I came back in a beautiful outfit and with the title of victor.

"Don't do anything silly in the Capitol." my Dad said, trying to smile as he hugged me. I laughed and sat back down. "Don't worry, Daddy! Think of all of the outfits!"

Mom and Dad smiled and sat back down next to me, not speaking at all. There we sat until the peacekeepers ushered them out, taking them away to our home, where they would watch me claim victory over the other 23 tributes. I smiled thinking of the ways I would rip out Luxx's throat. It was a such a shame, losing Vexx as a volunteer. He was such a handsome guy!

 **Hey guys! I finished District 1! That means it's just District 12, then an interlude featuring Hiram, and then the District 3 re-reaping! Hooray! What did you think of these two? This was my longest chapter yet, so I'm pretty proud of that, but I don't think I'll make it this long for District 12. Well, I'll see you there, so read and review! Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	15. District 12 Reapings: The Last Moments

**Bernard Hancock, 12, District 12 Male**

I started the early morning of the reaping on top of the roof of the Justice Building.

I didn't plan it the month before. I was not one of the very few rebels in this town, wanting to thumb my nose at the Capitol by climbing onto the top of the Justice Building. I didn't do it for the thrill of being so high in the town, being able to see everyone and everything, my whole life encased in a couple of square miles. I did it because my father told me that I wasn't allowed to.

We were all eating at the table for dinner, my mother and father having just came back from the mines. Marshall and Wyatt had made dinner like they always did, and we all sat down to dig into the meal. As usual, Marshall and I had gotten into a conversation.

"Why on Panem would you want to climb up onto the top of our roof, Bernard? That's so idiotic! I won't be the one taking you to the doctors. You'll be stuck in bed for weeks with a broken leg." Marshall said, chewing his last potato. I sneered at him, spearing the wilted green lettuce that we were eating with my fork. "I told you, I accidentally threw my rubber ball up there. All I have to do is use the ladder, climb up, and fish it out of the gutter. It's so simple, you could do it!"

Marshall waited a little before he spoke again, getting my attention. "Bernard, you could just use a stick to get it out. You can't always take the more thrilling road. You have got to accept that life isn't always exciting. It can be boring and repetitive, but it's still life. Don't try to ruin it so early. Your lungs will have plenty of time to do that in the mines."

I frowned at Marshall, chewing my lettuce furiously in an effort to speak again. Mom never liked us speaking with our mouths full at the table. "It's just a couple, like six feet up! How bad can it be?"

"Now, Bernard," my Dad cut in, staring at me sternly. I shrank back as he did so. "You are not on any occasion allowed to climb onto any roofs in the Seam. We don't need anyone getting hurt."

"But… But… But… Aww, come on!" I stammered, frowning at my plate. "So I'm just going to have to leave my birthday present up there?"

"I told you, it's too dangerous, and that's final!" Dad said, getting up to put his dishes away. Mom quickly followed, and Marshall got up to do the same.

"Peacekeeper..." I muttered at Marshall, walking over to our small sink to put my dishes inside. If they wouldn't allow me to climb onto a roof in the Seam, I would just have to find one that wasn't in the Seam.

The evening progressed in the same way it did every day. Mom washed the dishes, Dad smoked a pipe, Wyatt swept and studied, Marshall wiped the table down, and I tried to stay out of work. We all lingered in the small living room for a while, all making excuses about homework, the paper, a new announcement by President Ember to stay up, before finally being forced to go by our parents around 10:00. We went into our bedroom, climbed under the threadbare covers, and tried to dream of something, like always. It never changed. That was why I was going to sneak out of the house in the middle of the night and climb onto a roof in the town. Dad never said that I wasn't allowed to climb a roof in the town…

I waited until I heard the low, even breathing of Marshall, signifying he was asleep. Then, the snoring that plagued me whenever Wyatt fell asleep before me started up, and I counted to fifteen. Then, I slipped out of my blankets, propped the fallen pillow back behind Wyatt's head so that he wouldn't wake up, and slipped out of the open window.

It was thrilling, running along the sides of the streets in the middle of the night. Peacekeepers occasionally walked throughout the streets, their guns strapped to their belts, but none of them noticed the lithe shadow slipping behind the buildings towards the center of the town. They just kept walking on, focused on their own thoughts.

I kept running, looking for the perfect building to plant the small flag that I had constructed out of my father's newspaper while he was watching the news. When I pointed it out to Marshall after the reapings, he'd have to concede to my victory. Ah, there was surely nothing better than sweet revenge.

I stopped when I reached the square of the Justice Building. It was the largest, tallest, finest building in all of District 12. If I could plant it up there, I would be on top of the world.

I ran to a pipe on the side of the building, placing my hands on one of the clamps holding it onto the side and hoisting myself up to the next spot. It was slow going, the flag clamped between my teeth and slowly shimmying up the pole, but I managed to get to the roof after what seemed like hours. When I collapsed on the top of the roof, I lay there for a bit, gasping for breath, before going to the middle of the roof and using a ladder bolted to the side to climb to the highest part. Right below was the flag of Panem, draped over the front of the Justice Building. I folded the flag to make sure it would fit on the top, and then put it onto the flag. It stayed on, and I grinned with relief before climbing back down to get to the pipe where I had climbed up onto the roof.

I looked into the distance and saw the early rays of the sun peeking over the distance. It was time to go. I scampered down the side of the pipe, and ran behind the Justice Building. I knew a certain way from the train tracks to our house that, if I was lucky, would avoid any peacekeepers and the like.

I ran to the train tracks, climbing over the small fence that separated it from the town. It was supposed to be electrified, but that only happened once a week, when the head peacekeepers demanded full power to watch their favourite action show from the Capitol: _Maximillian's Way_. I laughed at the thought of the too-muscular man running around Panem, stopping the rebels and always getting the girl. What was supposed to happen to the woman after he left? Wouldn't she at least take offense at him being a playboy? If that happened in District 12, the elders would spit at the man and call him a canary, always wooing poor woman and running at the first sight of danger in his relationship. District 12 didn't tolerate canaries.

As I ran along the tracks, trying to find the house where my family was fast asleep inside, I heard a long train whistle. It echoed throughout the town, and I turned to see the train that two children of District 12 would be riding to the Capitol on. I shivered, turning to run home. The echoes of the train whistle flew around the forested area, filling the air with accusations.

 _Bernard… it's your turn… to die…_

 **Moon Krak** **ów, 17, District 12 Female**

The trees seemed to shiver with the thought of death in the early morning breeze, whistling a haunting tune throughout the branches of the forest. I listened quietly, enchanted by the haunting melody, before moving on. My traps needed checking, even if it was the morning of the reapings. Even though the Capitol took away two kids each year from District 12, life moved on. And I needed to move along right with it.

I walked through the forest, stepping over the fallen log that I always walked over and passing the raspberry bush, where I ate whenever I was feeling peckish in the summer. It was always nice to know that there was something sweet in the world other than sugar.

I stopped at the first trap, hidden right in front of a certain gap between bushes that rabbits were always fond of squeezing through. I had placed it there after finding rabbit fur stuck on some of the branches, and I caught one roughly every week. There was no rabbit today.

I kept moving, flitting through the forest like the birds that my mother always said I ate like. The mockingjays were hiding in the forest right now as if they knew what today was. There would be no addition to the wind's melody.

I stopped at the next trap, placed next to a rabbit hole. A squirrel was impaled onto the stick which I had set up carefully a couple of days ago, its eyes glazed over in death. I plucked it off of the sharpened stick, staring at it curiously. What would it be like to be the squirrel? Would it have felt terror in its final moments, wishing that it was anywhere else but on the stick? Did it feel pain, or was it a swift death? What would it be like for a human to die like that?

I put the squirrel under a log in which I stored small animals, and covered it with leaves. With any luck, it would be there tomorrow, when the peacekeepers would be gone and the reapings over. Then life could go back to normal. After this reading, I would only have one more year to worry about being reaped. After that, I would be free.

And then what?

And then what indeed? I had no plan for the future, just my traps, and my family. Soon enough, guys would come knocking on my door, hoping to take me out for dinner. I'd be stuck, forced to be married off to some idiot. Would it really be that free to escape from the reapings? They were the only real excuse to save me from the horror of all horrors, dating. No one in District 12 wanted to date someone who could end up dying in the Hunger Games if they weren't drop-dead beautiful. I was not in any way drop-dead beautiful. The fact that I pettily burned the clothes of the first guy who had dumped me also helped out a bit with my lack of suitors. But when the Hunger Games no longer threatened me, they would all come again, hoping to get a wife quickly. I would have to brush up on my ways to scare guys off again.

I kept looking through the traps, making sure that there was nothing else for me to scavenge. To my relief, there weren't any large things in my large bear trap. I never planned to catch any bears, maybe just a deer or two, but I had once caught the son of the mayor accidentally. It was at first funny to see the most important child in District 12 caught in a hole seven feet deep, but when I found out that he had twisted his ankle, it wasn't that great anymore. I had helped him limp back to his house, and we told the mayor that I had found him after he had twisted it in a rut near the school. He never asked me why I trapped animals in a banned area of District 12, and I never asked him why he took walks in a banned area of District 12. We never spoke again, but I did find a juicy orange on my desk a week after the incident.

I jogged through the forest, climbing over the electric fence and leaping into the large meadow. I ran back to my house, slipping into the backyard and surprising my mother. "What are you doing up at this hour, Moon? It's not even morning yet!"

I laughed, dodging the playful whip of the wet towel that she was hanging onto the clothesline. "Just taking a walk. The mines are closed today, so I don't have to walk with the people all heading off to work." Mom smiled and put a shirt on the line. "Don't get in too much trouble, Moon. You are a young woman after all."

"Don't remind me!" I shouted at her as I walked into the house, leaving Mom behind as she hung the laundry out to dry. I headed into the house, walking into my room and reluctantly changing into the old, faded black dress that Mom had set out for me. I donned the necklace that she had given me and walked out of the room. My grandmother was sitting on the chair that she had sat in for the past couple of years, calming sewing together our ripped clothing. She looked up when I walked into the living room and started to cackle. "Moon's all dressed up and ready for the reapings now! Oh my word, I thought I would never see this day. You never could bear to wear that when you were little. The times, they are-a-changing!"

I scowled at Grandmother, storming out of the house. I didn't like being dressed up like a prissy townie. Mom only made me wear it because it was the dress that she had before the Dark Days. It was putrid, but I had to wear it because even though we lived in the Seam, Mom always wanted us to look like 'proper young citizens of Panem'. I hated it. We had to put on a false front to Panem, like the propaganda pictures of each District. They made District 4 look like beautiful beaches, District 1 towns of glittering jewels, and District 9 waves of amber grain. Mom and Grandmother told me otherwise. They said that when the cameras didn't make them look nice, when we weren't trapped in District 12, but rather free to travel among the districts, District 4 had horrible hurricanes that ravaged the sands and blew away the palm trees. When the Capitol wasn't looking, District 1 was full of blind hobos, their sight ruined from their jobs of gem-setting. In District 9, men and women stole the grain to make alcohol to drown their sorrows. Panem wasn't the place TV made it out to be.

I walked on my way to the town square by myself. No one else in the house was ready to go to the reapings, even though they had spent more time in there than I did. I didn't mind. I liked going on my own. I never had to listen to Eiddwen and Thistle whimper about the reapings when I went on my own.

As I kept walking through the town, I saw a small bird on the side of the road. I walked over to the bird, noting that its wing was broken. It lay on the side of the road, vainly struggling to get to its feet and fly away. What a fool.

I picked up a rock and looked at the bird. It chirped pitifully at me, almost as if it knew what I was about to do. I looked at the beautiful patterns on its wings, circling around the body and making it look stunning. Then, I saw the loss of hope in its eyes, an acceptance of its fate.

I hammered the rock down. A small chirp echoed through the air, then fell into silence. The bird wouldn't sing again.

 **Bernard Hancock, 12, District 12 Male**

The reapings seemed to go on longer than they usually did today.

I fingered the rock that I had picked up on the side of the street as my family had walked to the reapings, tracing the smooth black surface. I figured that it would be an ok token if I was reaped. Mom and Dad didn't have anything to give me, and my brothers didn't think much about any of us getting reaped. It would be better than other things.

Our escort Arbor walked onto the stage, waving happily at us all. Arbor was still with us after the last few years, and he still tried to match the style of District 12. Today he was dressed in a smooth black suit, with a glow coming from small 'cracks' in the suit. I laughed. After all of the creativity that Capitolites put into their own clothing, they ended up dressing children as coal miners again and again in District 12. Every year of the parade had some variant of it.

Arbor smiled at our mentor, Pollux Corinnius, who was currently staring sullenly at the ground. It was no surprise to know that Pollux wanted a victor so that he could just leave District 12. Arbor didn't seem to care. He was probably just happy to know that he could finally speak now. I remembered the train coming in this morning, bringing Arbor with it. Did he ever practice his speech? Or did he just wing it? Did he think about helping make the tributes shine, in an effort to bring a victor back to District 12?

"People of District 12!" Arbor cried, and I instantly tuned out the conversation. Arbor never had anything interesting to say anyway, even if he practised it or not.

I watched my brothers in the other sections. Wyatt was focusing intently on Arbor, hanging onto his every word. Marshall was fidgeting in his own section, likely wishing it to be over. Marshall never liked going to public events, and the reaping was no exception. My parents were both watching the stage, likely thinking that none of us would be reaped. Even though we took tesserae, it wasn't as much as other families. The odds were relatively in our favour.

Arbor kept speaking, and I glanced up at the flag. To my delight, the white newspaper was still plainly visible to one who was looking for it, flapping at the top of the flag like a stain on the Capitol. I snickered and made a mental note to point it out to Marshall. He wouldn't be able to say that I wasn't able to climb the roofs now.

Arbor walked over to the girl's bowl, pulling out two slips. He looked at both, dropping one back into the bowl. Then he brought the remaining slip to the microphone, unfolding it for the whole square to see. He seemed to take more time opening it than usual as if he was trying to increase the suspense. From my view of some of the girls struggling not to cry, it was working.

"Moon Kraków!"

A thin girl with long black hair stepped out from the seventeen-year-olds, glaring at the ground and trying not to yell out in anger. She nodded coldly when Arbor tried to talk to her and refused to speak. Arbor soon gave up trying to coax words out of her and moved to the boys' reaping bowl. He plucked one from the bottom of the bowl, swirling his hand around before coming up with one. He opened it even more slowly and raised his eyebrows in an effort to get the crowd excited when he read out the name. "Bernard Hancock!"

I gasped, looking up at the stage. What? Me? Why? Who? Now? I couldn't! Did they say my name? Was it me?

A flicker of movement caught the back of my eye, something moving in the eighteen-year-old section. I gasped, looking back to see something grey moving through the crowd. Grey, like Marshall's shirt…

I burst through the crowd and ran up onto the stage, taking my place with a frantic look and a burst of speed. I couldn't let Marshall go into the Games. He would never survive it, he was too introverted, too kind. He couldn't volunteer for me. I winked at Arbor as he grinned at my apparent eagerness. Hopefully, the cameras would make me seem like someone who had a chance of surviving.

 _Smile, Bernard. Panem is watching…_

 **Moon Krak** **ów, 17, District 12 Female**

I refused to smile as we stood up on the stage, the cameras eating up every angle of us that they could get. Panem now could probably make a 3D version of both me and Bernard if someone wanted to.

I knew that if I ended up talking I would start yelling at the cameras, so I kept my mouth shut and stared at the floor when Arbor tried to coax me to talk about my family. If I had snapped, the Capitol would realize that their District 12 Female wasn't worth sponsoring. I needed to stay silent for my own good.

The crowd looked depressed when we were up on top of the stage. Watching two children to go off to their deaths each year did that to a town. I looked through the crowd to see my parents, trying to catch a glimpse of them in the thousands of adults in the back. I couldn't see them at first, but when I looked towards the middle, I saw the struggles of my father as he tried to stop my mother from running up to the stage. I stared at the ground once more, afraid to look up. If I did, it would just make it worse.

The reaping ended quickly, peacekeepers quickly surrounding us and escorting us to the Goodbye Rooms. I tried to stare at the eyes of the peacekeepers who were escorting myself, but could only see the reflective glare of the black visor. A pity. You could always tell what a person was like through their eyes, even in death. Eyes held no secrets from a person who knew where to look.

I could hear the boy who was reaped talking to his peacekeepers. He was saying something about the train, and from what I could see, some of them were listening. I would have to watch out for him. A person who could catch the attention of a peacekeeper could catch the attention of allies; allies that could kill me if I wasn't careful enough. I would have to either destroy the alliance or join it myself. My grandmother always said to keep friends close and enemies closer.

Soon enough I reached the rooms, and the peacekeepers followed me in, taking positions at either side of the door. As I peered out of the large window in the room, I saw peacekeepers out there as well. Interesting. From what I had heard, the Goodbye Rooms were usually just for family and friends of the tribute. Something must have happened for them to come in and listen to the goodbyes of our families.

I sat down in the room, waiting for my family to arrive. They came into the room in due time, my mother being the first to come and embrace me. She sobbed silently into my shoulder, the straightened up and dried her tears. To my mother, emotions in public were weaknesses.

Dad was the next to come, hugging me tightly and stroking my hair. A distant memory in my mind reminded me that he had done that when I was a little girl. He had sat in the big chair where Grandmother usually sat and rocked me back and forth, and I had giggled. He wasn't strong enough to do that anymore. He spent too much time coughing up blood and coal dust from the mines.

My sisters gathered around me, both of them sobbing quietly as they hugged me tightly. I tried not to shrug them off, knowing that they were scared of me leaving. It was the least that I could do for them.

Grandmother came last. She sat down next to me and stared into the distance quietly, thinking about some ancient memory. I waited for her to speak, knowing that she had something to say. Grandmother always had something to say.

"When I was young, I knew someone like you." Grandmother said, watching me with a gleam in her eye. I shifted in my seat and nodded. "She was strong, fiery, envious of others, a perfectionist, and above all, loyal to a fault."

Grandmother paused, waiting to let the words sink in. "She died because she wasn't willing to take food from others when they had so little themselves. Show no mercy in the arena, Moon. It's the only way you can come back."

I nodded, hugging Grandmother tightly before they all left the room. I was alone once more, with only the peacekeepers standing by the door for company.

 _Show no mercy, Moon. Sadness is weakness. Stay strong._

 **Hey guys! I finally managed to churn out this chapter, so that's good! What do you think of these two? It's my last full reaping! We'll have another interlude later, then the re-reaping for Three, and then we'll get into the good stuff, but I just introduced 24 characters! Pat on the back if I say so myself. It's also my birthday today, so you should leave a review as a present ;) Thanks to Elim9 and BabyRue11 for these two. Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	16. An Arena

**Selena Arthtome, 27, Assistant Gamemaker**

The Games had hit their first major problem, and I was the only person who had the power to deal with it. Every part of this decision was on me, and if I chose the wrong choice, I might be, to put it mildly, _removed_ from the game makers by the President. It wasn't unheard of. Everyone heard of what had happened in the 5th Hunger Games, where the Gamemaker to blame was summoned to the presidential mansion. She had reputably been killed by the President, but some smaller tabloids later published unconfirmed pictures of an avox who looked exactly like her. No one knew for certain, but the gossip among the game makers was that whoever screwed up anything in the arena would end up serving their former colleagues.

It had all started when we had noticed a glitch in the arena. The snowfall seemed to be drying up rapidly in our large pastures, and the frozen river had started to melt. Only small drifts of snow were left, and we had no idea of what to do. The farmlands in winter were turning into farmlands in the spring. It initially was a harmless glitch, one that we credited to a malfunction in one of the computers controlling the temperature of the arena, but as we sent a probe throughout all of the programs, it became clear that an exterior force was melting the snow.

Yesterday, we had realized that the forcefield had been reflecting the bright summer sun onto the arena. It was a new prototype which we had used to cut costs, and now it had backfired in our faces, with no time to replace it. The fact that there was a major drought going on during this time didn't help much, and the arena was melting rapidly. I needed to find some way to get it back in a desperate effort to stay on schedule with the original plan. Either that or my career was over.

"I want a crew of engineers ready to leave for the arena, as soon as possible!" I shouted, sipping my coffee worriedly. The reapings had just ended less than an hour before, meaning that we had one week to do something about this problem. "Is there any way at all to preserve the cooler temperatures in the arena?"

"The generators overheated and shut down," one of the assistant game makers said, pointing to some sparking generators outside of the arena. "We can't do anything. We have to wait for them to cool down, which could take days at the rate that they were sustaining the temperature in the arena."

I cursed. "We don't have days! We need to do something, but what? Oh, may plagues come down upon this cursed arena!"

I paused, rethinking my sentence. A long, slow smile crept over my lips, and I mentally patted myself on the back for my idea. "Scratch that, Alexandra, let the snow melt. In fact, make this a summer arena for our twenty-four lovely tributes. It'll work out just as well as the blizzards would have. We just need to make sure that the wolves are able to acclimatize to the warmer climate of the arena. We can't have our deadliest killers get taken down by climate change!"

Alexandra nodded with a hesitant gaze in her eyes, unsure of what I was planning for the arena. I snapped my fingers, beckoning her to change the temperature. She did so instantly, and I smiled once more. Being the head game maker wasn't that bad. In order to gain the attention and respect of your colleagues, all you had to do was yell a lot and seem vague.

I walked over in my long stiletto heels over to the programmers. They were moving the final models of the barn and the farmhouse onto the map, setting them down near the long, winding river that we had planned for the arena. It was hard walking in high heels all of the time, but it let me stay a head above the rest of the game makers. Fashion could be power as well as it could be beauty.

"I need you to make a few modifications to the bugs in the arena. We've got a new plan now." I declared, pointing at the melting snow and the sun beaming down onto the arena. The game makers listened to my quiet whispering and nodded quickly. They started typing madly into the program, and I walked away to the hub of the control room. There lay the control panel, the holographic model for all of the arena. I watched the small animals run across the fields, chasing each other as they celebrated the ending of the winter. The cattle started to get restless inside of their barnyard, pushing the gate open in order to graze in the pasture. The chickens cackled inside of their coops, likely laying as many eggs as they could for hungry tributes. Everything was ready for the Games. Now, we just needed to use my idea, and the tributes wouldn't know what hit them. This year would be even more twisted than anybody imagined.

I looked at the cornucopia, seated on the top of a grassy hill. The twenty-four pedestals surrounded it, ready for the tributes to rise up and charge at the cornucopia; or to run away, hiding in the fields. Now that we had removed the snow, there was no way for careers and stronger outliers to track tributes who ran away from the cornucopia. President Ember always expressed displeasure at that, and it was going to happen this year. Unless…

I walked back to the control panel and typed in a few lines of code, making sure that they were saved inside of the program. Then, I walked back precariously on my heels, watching large, thorny bushes surround the hill, leaving only two small paths outside of the cornucopia. If any tribute tried to leave the cornucopia, they would have to go out the same way as other like-minded tributes.

I smirked slightly and watched the animals frolic around the two long meadows in front of the barn and the farmhouse. Beyond them lay our dark woods, waiting for tributes to come in and get swallowed by the terrors of the forest. We were finally ready to show the arena to President Ember.

 **Hello! Bet you didn't think I'd update this soon! Now it's just the District 3 re-reaping, and we're into the train rides! Hooray! Well, what do you think of the arena? Any mutts you think that will slaughter all tributes? Has your idea of what the serum does changed at all? Well, I hope you liked it, so read and review! Until our LAST REAPING :D :D, TheAmazingJAJ**


	17. District 3 Re-Reapings: One Last Time

**Shawn Andersen, 14, District 3 Male**

After the first District Three Reapings for the 16th Hunger Games, I was positive that I was granted another year away from the Games. I would be able to stay at home with my family, able to spend time with my friends, free from the claws of the Capitol.

I was a fool for ever believing I was safe.

Here I was, standing once more in the crowd of fourteen-year-old boys, most of them sniveling silently to themselves. We all instantly had gone into the mentality of that we were safe from the Games for another year once Maureena called out Lincoln Serket's name yesterday, some likely having even smiled as Lincoln went up. None of us thought that Lincoln's confession would have sent us back into the square, standing like lambs primed for the slaughter once again. Nobody thought that Lincoln's father would have killed Lincoln for revealing his identity as the Collector, the district-wide feared serial murderer.

I looked for my friends in the crowd, trying to see where they are in this nervous mass of humanity. Bug and Boolean both wave to me from their spots ahead of me, Bug standing with all of the other girls in her age group and Boolean standing with the thirteen-year-old boys.

As I watched Maureena reach into the bowl, I realized that it was going to be me heading onto the stage. I didn't know why, but some strange feeling in myself knew that I was going to be the replacement. I almost laughed. What would other people think of a person who was the second choice for the Hunger Games? _There's Shawn Andersen, the replacement for a death game! He's only going in because some sicko offed his son. Isn't that sad?_

Why were there even the Hunger Games in the first place? Were they a power bid in the Capitol by our president to keep her government under control? Was it because of a sadistic need to watch violence? Was it because of popular demand? There could have been much easier ways to handle these situations. They could have chosen anything else, and they chose the crudest, most sadistic way to punish the districts.

I watched Maureena pull the reaping slip out of the bowl, opening it slowly and moving closer to the microphone to read it out clearly. I looked over at the girls on the other side of the square, all looking more noticeably relaxed. It was easy to think that this wasn't that big of a deal when it wasn't yourself going to your death. If anything, the girl reaped yesterday, Mira, looked even more nervous than the fear of the Hunger Games would have ever scared her. Everyone in the district had watched how she had frozen up and was taken away from the flashing cameras as Capitolite reporters tried to discover what exactly had happened. After staring death straight in the face, Mira knew exactly what she was fighting for.

Maureena leaned closer to the microphone, her lips forming the name of the unlucky man who was taking the place of Lincoln. How would my district remember me if I went into the Games? Would my neighbours remember me as the goofy Shawn who liked to laugh and have fun with his friends? Would the rebels remember me as the confident man who had a plan for everything and was always there to help out in some way or another? Would my classmates remember the Shawn who was a good student, but nowhere near the geniuses who would be designing new helicrafts in their twenties? Or would I remembered for just what I would do in the Games?

"The replacement tribute for the District 3 Male's position is… Shawn Andersen!"

 _Twelve Years Ago_

 _A young mother and child run across the streets of their neighbourhood, trying to find a certain house. They are quickly followed by a younger man holding a briefcase, and they all run into a small, rundown house. The man closes the door, making sure that no one can see what is happening. The blinds are down, the door is locked. The mother looks up. "Ted?"_

" _It's your mother," the man says, panting as he hands the briefcase to the mother. She hooks it over one hand, keeping a fierce grip on her child. He tries to squirm out of her arms, but the mother holds on tightly._

" _Is she ok, or did something happen? Did she fall down the stairs? I know that she's been declining in health recently, but I didn't think it could happen this quickly!" says the mother, quickly getting agitated. The child seems to pick up on the somber mood, and he starts to cry, staining his mother's shirt. She doesn't look down._

" _It's worse than that. The peacekeepers found her." says the man, taking off the hat on his head in respect. The woman gasps._

" _No! It can't be! She's the face of our work! How did they find her? She's kept quiet about it from everyone. No one should have known about her! How?"_

 _The man tries to answer, but the woman doesn't stick around to listen to him. She runs out of the door, holding her child and the briefcase. She sprints onto the curb, kicking off her high heels that she was wearing. The baby laughs, poking his mother's face. She smiles at him and pokes him in the belly, still running for the house where her mother has lived in for the past ten years._

 _They soon reach the house that the mother is looking for, and the mother opens the door slightly. She pokes her head in and listens. Silence fills the air. She counts silently to ten, then opens the door fully. She walks into the hallway and closes the door before setting her child down. Then, she runs up the stairs, to the bed where her mother has been lying in for the past few months. The boy waits patiently downstairs, but he only has so long of an attention span. He walks out of the hallway, into the kitchen, then starts to laugh, pointing. The mother runs down the stairs, her arms full of the secret papers that her mother had kept under a sealed floorboard in her bedroom, and gasps when she sees that her child is no longer where she left him. "Shawn? Where are you?"_

 _The woman walks around the hallway, peering out of the door to see if he managed to get outside. When no child is to be seen on the road, she opens several doors. Finally, she opens the kitchen door. The sight of her child pointing at her dead mother, shot point blank in the head and lying on the floor of the kitchen, causes her to scream. She sinks down to the floor, wailing. Her worried child comes back to her, patting her on the back. "Why you so sad, Mama? Gamma's red! Gamma's red!"_

 _Six Years Ago_

 _A young Shawn fidgets in his seat, wishing that school could end quickly. All around him is the sight of eight-year-olds taking fastidious notes, trying to cram every last bit of information about basic Panemian geography into their heads. Shawn looks down at his sufficiently covered sheet, with a map of Panem and facts about each district neatly coloured inside of each district. He taps his foot impatiently as one young scholar adjusts his glasses, already on his third page of notes about District Seven._

 _Ring! Ring!_

 _The sound of the school bell causes Shawn to jump up from his seat, holding his notes with him as he walks out of the classroom. Only a handful of his classmates walk out with him. The rest of them are inside the classroom, still trying to soak up enough knowledge to be sorted into an advanced group next year when the official classes would be announced to the school. With those kinds of stakes in District Three's world of brilliance, knowledge was power._

 _Shawn runs back to his small home, hoping that he can have some time to play with his sister today. He knows that his Mom and Dad could always be going someplace with Shauna. If they were gone, they'd leave a small note and a reminder to ask old Mrs. Mikkelson to come over for the afternoon._

 _Shawn opens the door loudly, running inside and dumping his school bag with the Captain Panem logo on it on the kitchen table. "Mom? Dad? Are you home?"_

 _Shawn hears a noise in the living room and goes to see what it is. He opens the door and peers in to see his mother and father busy printing out copies of a poster from a printing press. Shawn frowns. Printing machines were illegal in Panem except for certified schools and newspapers. They weren't released to the public. How did his parents, law-abiding citizens, get their hands on one?_

 _His mother turns around at the sound of Shawn opening the door, gasping in shock as he looks in. She taps her husband on the arm, and he turns around to see little Shawn sitting next to him and picking up a poster._

" _Why does it say Join the Rebels, Dad?" Shawn asks, looking at the paper with a confused gaze. Rebels were just old myths from the Dark Days. There weren't any more of those, not after the Capitol destroyed District 13. Were there?_

" _Shawn, you can't tell anyone about this. Not your friends, not your classmates, not your sister, until she's older. Ok? You can't say anything at all, Shawn. We have to be quiet." his Dad says, a nervous look on his face. Shawn looks up at him, nodding confidently. "Of course. An Andersen doesn't snitch."_

 _One Year Ago_

 _Shawn watches through the blinds of his bedroom windows, making sure that the peacekeepers drive by in their vehicles without noticing the people gathered in his house. It technically was not an illegal gathering yet. Twelve people had to gather together privately from different families in order for the peacekeepers to officially declare the meeting illegal, and only seven other rebels had shown up so far. Adding that to his family, the gathering was one short of an illegal meeting. Even if they wanted to, the peacekeepers couldn't arrest the Andersens and their friends yet until the Huxleys showed up._

 _Shawn gets up and walks down to the kitchen. On the kitchen table lie several posters, dispersed along the table with several blueprints of buildings that the Andersen's executive friend had brought. The Andersens didn't ask how he got them, and he doesn't ask how they had gotten their hands on a printing machine._

 _Shawn's mother is talking animatedly to the rest of the group, gesturing how they would deliver the intelligence to the main rebel base, when a series of clicks are heard at the back door. CLICK click click CLICK! Click CLICK! Shawn gets up and runs to the door, opening it for the Huxleys, along with several more rebels that his parents had gotten in touch with over the past couple of years. "Hey, Bug! Boolean's waiting in the living room for us. Do you want to come?"_

 _Bug nods and the two race to the living room, where Boolean is reading a book as he waits for the two. As they race in, he drops the book and comes to high five the two._

 _They settle down and choose one of the board games from the large shelf of games, setting it up and talking lightheartedly about things that had happened in school during the past few months._

" _I rolled a six!" Shawn cries, moving his player up the board several times. He takes a card and frowns. "I have to give in 200 sesterces."_

 _Boolean laughs, scooping in his latest profit. "I'm totally beating you guys. Mom always said that I should be a banker! Who do you think will win this year?"_

" _District 4." "District 7." Bug and Shawn say at the same time, both laughing at each other when they realize that they both said conflicting answers at the same time._

" _Well, no one has any District 3 spirit!" Boolean jokes, causing them all to laugh again._

" _Whenever anyone from District 3 is reaped, they're either dead in the bloodbath or the top three." Bug says, reminding them of the few tributes from District 3 who had stood a chance over the years. Megan, John, and the one victor, Kaitlynn._

" _If one of us were reaped, do you think that we would get any help from our parents?" Boolean asks, unconsciously shivering. Boolean has his name in the reaping bowl five times this year; the most of any of his friends._

" _Mom and Dad say that there are a couple of implanted rebels in the Capitol. They told Shauna that if she ever gets reaped, they'd make sure that those people would help her in the Games." Shawn says, nodding confidently. The others nod, and they go back to the board game, laughing as they come further to winning or losing all of their money. The shadow of death has been forgotten._

 **Selena Arthtome, 36, Assistant Gamemaker**

I walked out of the control room, looking back over my shoulder to make sure that no one was following me. I didn't need any of the other game makers to see what I was doing. If they did, not just my career, but my whole life could be over.

As I walked out, one of the game makers came running after me, holding a phone. He stumbled up to me, nodding his head and handing the phone to me. "We've finally been able to establish contact, ma'am. I've made sure that only those on our side know about this."

I smiled, holding the phone. I listened to the person speaking on the other end and nodded. "Yes, I'll do anything to help him. I'll notify him of Code 3. I'll see him in the Capitol. You too. Goodbye. And remember, the Games could end at any minute."

 **OUR! LAST! REAPING! IS! FINALLY! OVER! I'm so proud XD XD**

 **Really, though, I am so happy. I've introduced 25 tributes! 25! And in just over three months! I surpassed all of my goals, and it's all thanks to you guys. Now, what do you think of Shawn's POV? How about Selena? Anything suspicious ;D ;D Until the train rides (and until I finish dancing around my house excitedly), TheAmazingJAJ**


	18. Train Rides I: Who We Are

**Taffeta Paisley, 18, District 1 Female**

I couldn't have been more frustrated with my district partner. The train had just pulled away from the station, leaving behind an excited district, ready to finally get another victor from District One, and I was stuck with an idiotic escort, an intimidating mentor, and the most arrogant and potentially dangerous district partner I could have asked for. Luxx was a loose cannon, and he was going to drag me down with his attitude if I didn't do something about it. At least Headmaster Quick had alienated him from the beginning. He refused to help a person who had cheated the system in order to fight in the Games, even if they were his second choice.

Luxx laughed as he watched through the window at the crowd waving goodbye to the train, dozens of photographers taking pictures of the train leaving. "Look at them all, Taffy. They're all so excited to watch us fight to the death. At least I'm finally out of that hell hole. You can do nothing but rot among the jewelry in District 1. Then you get swept away by the peacekeepers once the cameras come around again, just so you don't ruin the photos. Aren't you glad to be rid of them all, Taffy?"

"Don't call me Taffy," I said through gritted teeth, trying to ignore Luxx. His very presence was going to ruin my publicity. My beauty would be ruined because of this living Narcissus, trying to hog all of the attention away from my perfect body, which should rightfully be soaked up by the press once I rode into the parade, my body adorned with the finest silks and jewels. I would be unstoppable, but this idiot was going to ruin it all.

"Then I'll call you… Etta. That suits you. Old women have no sense of humour, isn't that right, Gladys?"

I gasped, standing up to face Luxx. "You arrogant, spoiled, idiotic, narcissistic, egotistical little… wench!"

I let the words sink in, then slapped Luxx straight across the face, noting in satisfaction that the red mark stayed after the initial shock faded. I might not have been the strongest person in the Games, but I knew how to anger a person. Slapping them across the face always produced the best results.

Luxx stared at me, his teeth clenching in anger as he raised his fist. I grabbed a knife from the table, holding it in self-defense against him. Luxx moved forward, then stopped as Headmaster Quick pushed him away. He stood between the two of us, scoffing. "Don't fight to the death until the Games start, children. And Taffeta, you should know a bit better. Those classes on learning to hide your emotions aren't paying off very well, are they now?"

I blushed, looking away from the headmaster. Even though I had taken many extra classes on controlling my emotional state, I still wasn't very good at it. My temper always flared whenever I was insulted, and that was a weakness I had never mastered.

"Now, let's just keep the both of you away from one another. I don't need to take my tributes into the Capitol with stitches."

Gladys nodded wisely, taking Luxx over to the other side of the dining car. He glared at me as she steered him towards the television, then relaxed as he started to watch the recap of the reapings.

"Taffeta, you can't act like that around Luxx, even if you think he's a brat. We don't need you to get thrown out of the careers because you can't hold your temper when Luxx annoys you. The career pack will already be weak enough with Luxx ruining everything and whatever District 4's coughed up this year." Headmaster Quick paused, letting it sink in. I nodded. "But why can't we just throw out Luxx? I'm the stronger of us, and if we get rid of the weakest link, the pack will be all the stronger for it."

Headmaster Quick shook his head slowly, weighing the pros and cons of the situation. "Too risky. If we refuse a perfectly good volunteer from joining the pack, then we endanger our very position in it. What you need to do is befriend him. Seduce him if you need to. But you need to make sure that he doesn't ruin the careers chances of winning. District One cannot lose another chance at victory."

 **Ajax Hollis, 17, District 2 Male**

I couldn't have been happier with my district partner. Zora and I knew how to work with each other like peas in a pod, and we were ready to take on the world. If we managed to get rid of the most threatening outliers quickly, District Two could easily bring home their fourth victor.

Clay was the first, bringing home victory in a Coliseum after he killed his district partner in the finale. He was the reason that we had started the Institute in the first place, he was the person who kick-started the careers. To Panem, Clay was a living legend. Now, he was standing with Natalia, joking about the outfits that we'd be wearing this year.

Natalia was the next victor to come back home to District Two, destroying her opponents as one of the first volunteers, all while laughing her way through the Games. Her final kill was legendary, her final words to her opponent were a household phrase. She was the beauty of District Two. The Capitol surgeons were able to erase the worst scars, especially the one that ran across her legs, reminiscent of the boy's final attack against her. Natalia had lost blood, the boy lost his life.

Finally, there was Caleb, the most mysterious of all of them. He had won quite by accident, in an ever-changing finale in which the victor seemed to switch by the second. First, his district partner was on the verge of killing him, then she was knocked down by the girl from Twelve, breaking her neck in the fall. The girl from Twelve was attacked by a huge mutt, but Caleb jumped down to help, slaying the beast while getting clawed in the eye that his district partner hadn't stabbed. He stumbled around the top of the mountain, finally falling down a small cliff just as the cannon of the girl from Twelve finally boomed. It was rumoured that he had done so on purpose. If so, he had still survived, now sitting down comfortably in a chair and staring into the distance with his dark glasses. Caleb had been blind ever since the finale.

Could I possibly be the next one to bring home victory to Two? Could I impress my family, show the nation that I wasn't the weak one? Or would I just become another number, another statistic in the eyes of Panem? I didn't want to be reduced to a number. I wanted to survive to feel the sun on my face when I came back home. I wanted to live my life. I needed to win the Hunger Games.

Zora stood nonchalantly by a table, chewing on a bun. I looked over at her and she smiled, raising her thumb. "Carb-loading," she said, grinning through an open mouth. I laughed, looking at the glazed buns and the dozens of fruit bowls on the table. Bean always liked fruit, though bugs were her favourite. She was probably pretty hungry, although I had given her a big meal this morning.

"Hey, Bean," I cooed as I took her out of my shirt pocket, placing her on the table. Bean squeaked in delight and shot towards the fruit, biting onto one and sporting a look that was the closest to bliss that a turtle could get.

"Is that Bean?" Zora asked, sitting down and stroking Bean's shell. Bean squeaked again, still eating her fruit. "Aww, she's adorable! Ajax, why did you bring her with you?"

I looked sheepishly at the ground. "She kind of snuck onto me in the Goodbye rooms. I couldn't leave her there, so here she is. Do you think Clay or Natalia would like to bring her back home when we go into the arena?"

"How about Caleb? He's a pretty nice guy." Zora and I looked up to find the source of the statement, and found Caleb at the table with his cane and dark glasses, staring blankly into space while grinning. He turned towards us - which was pretty impressive in its own right - and adjusted his glasses. "I'm not just a blind idiot. I like pets pretty well, and there's lots of room in my house. Natalia and Clay are only a house away if something goes wrong, and I think I'd enjoy some company. Isn't that right, Bean?"

Bean cooed as Caleb stroked her, turning towards him and seeming to almost smile. He knew where she liked to be stroked, even if he took a bit to find her on the table. He was a victor, after all. Bean would do well with him.

"Sure, Mr. Stamos. Bean likes you." Caleb smiled, stroking his chin and grinning at us. "Just remember, you two, if you want to make it back home to this turtle, you've got to be willing to kill. I made the mistake of not being totally willing to kill and look at me now. You need to be totally willing to betray anything in order to survive, even if that means losing who you are. And most importantly, learn the weaknesses of your opponents. Learn how to manipulate them."

Zora smiled confidently, taking another bite of her bun. I shivered. Was I really willing to lose who I was to survive? Was I willing to throw away myself if it meant victory? Was I willing to kill my identity to save my body?

I didn't know. But in the next week, I would find out.

 **Shawn Andersen, 14, District 3 Male**

I knew exactly what I had to do now. Mom and Dad had always talked to me about what I should do if I was ever reaped. First of all, I shouldn't directly declare that I was a rebel, but at the same time, I was supposed to try to do something to stop the Games. And I knew the perfect way to do that.

I turned to Mira, watching her try not to dive into the jello - was that what Maureena called it? - that she was eating. Her top hat perched precariously on top of her short auburn hair and wobbled slightly as the train rushed around a curve. Maureena squealed slightly as the train seemed to wobble, and Mira shrank back as if she was getting ready to move in case something happened to the train. Some of the dishes started to move across the table, then stopped as the train went out of the curve.

"So, do you want to do anything, guys?" Kaitlynn asked, re-adjusting her glasses and tucking back her brown hair. She looked uncomfortable around children.

 _Remember Shawn, you always look for people who can help the cause. You don't take on strays, you look for people who know things, can help you. Us rebels would all be hanging if we took in anyone who agreed to become one._

"I know, Dad," I muttered, staring at the window. Mira glanced over to see if I was talking to her, and when she saw I was muttering to myself, she went back to her jello. She looked like she hadn't eaten a large meal in a while. She looked scared. She looked like she knew how to survive.

"Actually, Kaitlynn, I think that both Mira and I would like to watch the reapings," I said, looking up at Kaitlynn confidently. Mira gulped when I said so, tensing up slightly. She didn't want to see the people who would actively try to kill us both next week.

"Sure! I think that the program should be on around now, we might have to just wait a bit. Do you want popcorn or something?" Kaitlynn said, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV. Maureena clapped in delight, sitting down delicately on the couch. "Oh, darlings, we'll get to see some of the other escorts! I've heard that Angolde pulled off quite the daring outfit. Let us watch!"

I smiled, watching the end credits of another one of those Capitol soap operas as we waited for the reapings to start. Once we watched the name of the five-hundredth and twenty-third Capitolite who had been an extra in a concert scene fade away, the television switched to the setting of District One. I watched the square appear, showing the hundreds of beautiful children. They always put them in the front of their groups if they looked particularly handsome. District One never let the cameras get a glimpse of the uglier children.

I watched the first volunteer step onto the stage, flashing a smile at the cameras as she told the square that her name was Taffeta Paisley. Mira snorted, and I cracked a small smile. Only people in District One would name children after luxurious fabrics. Maybe her mother cut them out into dresses for a living.

I watched the reaped boy walk up to the stage, just before the volunteer raced up and exclaimed his name to the crowd. They seemed shocked that his name was Luxx Mortem. There was just something about the guy, though, that made me distrust him. He looked like a threat, someone who would betray you in the blink of an eye. He was a threat.

District Two passed quickly, with both of the teens stepping up to volunteer. I watched the victors look at the volunteers, watching them step up to the stage, except for Caleb. The blind victor stared into the crowd, looking at whatever he didn't see.

As District Three came into view, I turned to see Mira sniffling slightly. I frowned in concern, then remembered what had happened to Lincoln. Mira was the one to find the father killing him.

Mira watched herself walk onto the stage with a nervous gaze, then started to tear up as Lincoln walked up. He looked so small, too young to be killed. We were all too young to be killed.

"Are you ok?" I asked Mira, watching earnestly. She nodded and wiped away her tears. "I'm fine. It's just so sad to see him walk up there with no… knowledge of what was going to happen to him. It could happen to us. I don't want to die."

I nodded slowly, sitting closer to Mira. "And I don't want to die either. That's why we're going to form an alliance and get us all out of the Games."

 **Monique Rivera, 18, District 4 Female**

I didn't know what to do next. Keelan had just left the dining room a couple of minutes ago, claiming that he needed a nap, and I had stayed, eating a delicious muffin. It did nothing to help me ignore the fact that I could still hear Craig thrashing in his room, trying to stop whatever he saw when he had one of his… episodes. That left me in this room, along with a victor I had only seen at dinners. Mom and Dad didn't like me and Talisa to talk to guests unless asked a question.

Magdalene was sitting next to me, calmly working on a small cube with interchangeable coloured squares. She smiled slightly as she got some of the red colours to line up, then started to change it quickly, her fingers flying as she switched the colours around. I watched in surprise as Magdalene gave a small cry of delight, holding up the cube, with every colour on its own side. She smiled, turning to me. "I see you're interested in Rubik's Cubes. Would you like to try one?"

I nodded, smiling as Magdalene reached into a handbag. "Thank you, Mrs. Flanagan."

"Call me Mags! I hate all of those formalities in the Capitol and in the districts. They're always trying to give everyone a title when we all have a perfectly good name to address others with. Craig doesn't like them either, has he told you much about the Capitol?"

I shook my head, my red hair flying back and forth in the air. "Craig doesn't tell us much. He only really talks when he trains with me and when he cooks."

Mags smiled, looking over her shoulder slightly to see if Craig's door was open yet. It wasn't. "I keep these to occupy my mind whenever the memories get too much. It helps to stimulate your mind when things get tough. You should remember that. Oh my, I've come up with a piece of advice that isn't half-baked!"

I laughed, reaching for the Rubik's Cube. I looked at the way it was all perfectly aligned with every colour, every square serving a purpose to challenge your mind. "Thanks, Mrs - Mags. I guess I'm not used to saying your name after the dinners at our house. Dad never liked us addressing others like they were family."

Mags shook her head, staring out of the window. "Your father has done a lot of things, and not all of them have been good for Craig. Why, I remember when he first mentored myself! He wouldn't eat any sugary foods, for fear of displeasing his father. Oh, he was such a funny man when I came back."

"Is… Craig… different when he mentors?" I asked carefully, looking to see if Craig had come out from his room. He hadn't, but the screams had stopped. That was a good sign.

"Well… " Mags started, careful to pick her words out correctly. "He is definitely happier, he is more, well, himself than he is back in the district. He has something to focus on, and back home, he has nothing to think of but his own mind. The arena changed him, Monique. He's not going to be the same that he was before, you might not be the same person you are if you make it out alive. You have to understand, Monique, he's also doing this for you. Craig might not have told you, but victors, well, when they win, the Capitol wants to, well, do things to them. They want to touch them, love them, take them home. Victors like Craig, ones who seem too volatile and crazy, are ignored. The Capitol doesn't like broken products. I've gotten by because I married Dan, but most of the others, they don't get to enjoy that luxury. Craig might act like that because of the arena, but he also does it to save you and himself. When a victor refuses to let the Capitol do what they want, they destroy the most valuable things that they have."

Mags stopped, wringing her hands nervously as she looked up at the roof. I looked into her face, watching the concern and the pity that she had for Craig, and understood what she meant. "Thank you, Mags. Thank you for helping me understand. But the Capitol is wrong. My brother isn't broken. He can be fixed. And I'm going to come home to fix him."

 **Wyatt Blink-Box, 14, District 5 Male**

It was beautiful, just staring out of the window at the wilds the train rushed by, traveling towards the horizon. It almost made me forget I was going to die as soon as we headed into the arena. Almost.

I turned around to look miserably at a growling Ashrifah. Apparently, she hadn't taken a liking to my 'whining'. I had learned that once she threw a kitchen knife at me, promising to be accurate if I kept crying about how my parents were going to miss me. She was stupid. Her parents were probably dead or something and she was just jealous that I had a better life than her.

Rosanna came over to me, patting my back and handing me a cinnamon twist. "How's our champ right now? Ready to tuck in to bed soon?"

I shook my head, whimpering again. It just seemed so scary to think that I was heading off to die. Why would they choose someone like me? Why would the Capitol want to do this to us?

Rosanna paused for a moment, before pulling me up to my feet. "Come on, Wyatt. I have something to show you right now. I think that you'll like it…"

I followed Rosanna through the dining room, heading out of the car and into the bedrooms. Rosanna walked excitedly through the train cars, walking towards the front of the train. What was there that was so important? Why would she want to take me here at this hour? She was the very first victor of the Games, having fought in the first arena and taken home the victory. The Games were different now. But she didn't seem like a victor. She seemed… nicer. She seemed happier than other victors. I liked her more than Ashrifah or our escort,

Rosanna stopped in her tracks as we reached the last car, taking out a small key. "The train driver doesn't like many people coming up to the front, but I think he'll make an exception this one time. Do you want to go into the engine room, Wyatt? I think that'd be great to do before bed."

I nodded excitedly, opening up the door and walking into the room. It was filled to the brim with clocks, whistles, and wires, all adorning the walls of the room. I stood and traced the wires to their places, looking excitedly at the cab. Everything in here had a job, had something important to do. In this, nothing went wrong. This worked, and if I survived, I wanted to do the same. I wanted to make things for others, just like my parents. I could be useful if I could invent.

I looked at the levers in the room, feeling all of them. "Is the red one to put it on auto-pilot? Because that's the only one that is on right now, and the driver isn't here right now. It makes sense."

Rosanna nodded, pointing to the front of the train. "Can you see the sunset from here, Wyatt? Isn't it beautiful?"

I watched the glowing sun sink into the horizon, waving goodbye to us. It slowly vanished, leaving only the stars and the sky to light our path. It seemed so much more beautiful now, now that I had only so many days left. "It is beautiful!"

Rosanna laughed, guiding me out of the room and back to the bedrooms. "I'm going to call Falcon and see how things are. Sleep well, Wyatt! And always remember to see that wonder in creation that you saw tonight. Don't forget that in the Games. You'll always stay true to yourself if you do that."

 **Isa James, 15, District 6 Female**

It was horrible staring out of the window to watch the forests rush by, watching this train take me closer towards death. I didn't want to die because I was reaped instead of some morphling. I wanted to be the one to survive, not the teenage drunk next to me. Tony didn't know how to hold his alcohol, but he was still reaching for a bottle. He was going to fall off of his pedestal in the arena if someone didn't stop him.

I swatted the bottle out of his hand, watching it shatter onto the floor. The beer soaked the carpeting as it spilled out of the broken bottle, and I heard Flowe shriek in horror. I grinned at Tony, sitting back down and daring him silently to do something about it. "I'm not sitting next to someone who's going to drink until we get into the Capitol. You've had enough, Tony. Or have you stopped after I reported you?"

Tony snarled at me, stomping over to the television and switching it on. I watched it show one of the District reapings, likely District Nine because of the drunken men and women in the background. District Nine was the root of this whole problem.

"Doug, do you have any idea of potential alliances we could make with other districts?" I asked, watching the strong girl and the sniveling boy walk up to the stage. If I was able to form an alliance with other strong tributes, I could make my way to victory.

Doug stared blearily over at me, miraculously clean of the morphling he was so notorious among the district for using. "If you want to ally with nine, you're barking up the wrong tree. Ever since Falcon and Rosanna shacked up and married, Five and Nine only ally with each other unless the tributes do it themselves. And I don't think many want to ally with you two. If you want to try elsewhere, Eight and Three are always pretty desperate. The rest are just either too weak or too strong for you two." He stopped, seeming tired out. Flowe came over quickly, eager to help us out, somehow. I smiled politely to her - Mother and Father always liked me to be able to associate properly with the Capitolites - and ran the recording back to the District Eight reaping.

We all watched the reapings start, Flowe pointing out the outfit of the escort. "Lavendine always knows how to pull off a style! Oh, she looks wonderful! She could crack the front page with that look, she could!"

I smirked at Lavendine's over-the-top red velvet dress. It seemed to go well with the apparent bloodstains on most of the children in the crowd. Father must have been right. The workers in other districts really did get injured all of the time in the factories.

I watched a tiny wisp of a girl walk onto the stage, looking scared in a garish polka dot dress and red shoes. She squeaked when Lavendine attempted to talk to her, refusing to answer. The boy was even worse, sobbing his heart out onto the stage. Lavendine looked relieved when they finally got off of the stage. It must have been horrible, stuck with two tributes who were going to die off before the bloodbath ended.

"I'm not allying with those two!" I declared, playing the District Five reaping. They might have had their loyalty tied to Nine, but it was always good to check out all of your options. That was how I got the best deals when I shopped for my outfits for the week. I watched in horror, then disgust as the bloodthirsty volunteer and the crying little boy came up onto the stage. There were an awful lot of weak little boys this year. Well, I'd just not ally with them. They would just drag me down, or just skin me alive. The girl looked like she wanted to kill the world. She was obviously deranged.

I played District Three next, watching the thin girl in the magician's hat come up onto the stage. Who did she think she was? One of the Travelers? At least she was older. The boy came up next, walking up with a scared look on his face. I braced myself for yet another round of tears, then gasped as he declared that his father was a murderer. The camera cut off quickly, showing a new boy being reaped.

"What happened to the first one?" I asked Flowe, staring at the screen. They would never reap two of a gender, would they? It was so strange.

Flowe looked uncomfortably at me, her lips moving silently as she tried to piece together a response. "Well, ahh, actually, well… "

"The first one was murdered by his dad." We whipped around to see Doug standing up, a strange gleam in his eyes as he gazed at the second boy. "They re-reaped the second one to make the numbers correct. The Capitol can't bear having less than 24."

Doug walked out of the room, and Flowe sat back down, muttering something about preparing us for the announcement of death. I ignored them and walked away from a muttering Tony, likely plotting to grab another bottle. I didn't need any of the cannon fodder that was reaped, and I didn't want to work with a psychopath from Five. If I was allying, I was going to do it with the strongest, the best tributes in the Games. I was going to join the careers.

 **Hey again! Sorry it took so long to update, I guess school's catching up a little on me. Well, that's another chapter through with! What did you think of this chapter?Any extra insights on the characters? I enjoyed writing them all, so I can't wait for the next chapter! By the way, I've got a poll on your favourite tributes, so go fill that out. You should also totally read my new story, All The World! Maybe you'll enjoy it, and leave a review if you read it! Well, we'll see six more tributes the next time I update, and then we're in the Capitol! If you're wondering where I am in my writing, check on my profile sporadically and look at my update notes. Finally, read and review! Maybe even follow and fave if you haven't! Until 100 (or whatever amount of reviews I get from this chapter, I don't know what will happen XD XD), TheAmazingJAJ**


	19. Train Rides II: What We'll Do

**Ryker Underwood, 18, District 7 Male**

I had never heard silence quite as loud as it was inside of the dining car, as the train flew towards the Capitol. I felt even more alone than I was on the stage. It was true. My family, my friends, Sabrina, all were left behind in the district. And I was the only one here that I knew I could trust.

Aris was too mysterious to be an ally for now. What I knew of her was little; she helped to run the apothecary with her mother, and always had her dog with her when she went to market, but besides that, I knew virtually nothing about the girl with the dog. She was as much of a stranger as all of the other tributes. If I did decide to trust her as an ally, I was helping my cannon to boom faster. My family didn't need that to happen.

From what I had seen on the recaps, there were a few others that could potentially work. The boy from Ten looked strong, with a certain air about him that seemed to command authority. The girl from Nine was strong in her own way. I saw the hard glint in her eyes as she walked up to the stage. She was willing to fight to win. But I didn't know if they would be willing to work with me. Even if I did have allies, I would be just as vulnerable as I would without them. Was it really worth it to work with people who were actively planning to kill you?

I stared out of the window at the lakes and rivers the train was winding around, watching the huge salmon leaping out of the water to let the sun shine on their beautiful scales. The sun shone onto the water, making the salmon shine even brighter as they swam innocently to the sea. They would never be touched by the Capitol. They were free to do what they pleased.

"They're beautiful, aren't they?"

I whipped around to see Aris staring out at the salmon with me, smiling sadly as she watched a large bear trying to catch the salmon disappear from view. The train waited for nothing.

"I… I just wish that we could go… out," I stammered, blushing furiously. What was wrong with me? I bit my lip and resolved not to act like that again on the train. The Games were turning my brain to mush. I needed to stay strong. Any weakness would mean I would lose Sabrina.

Aris nodded wisely, stepping onto a chair and grabbing an apple. She started to chew it, talking to me through the mass of fruit inside of her mouth. "You should eat. The more food we have now, the more carbs we have in the arena. Now is no time to make sure you've got a six-pack."

I laughed, grabbing an orange and peeling it. I tossed a slice to Aris who caught it quickly, looking curiously at the slice. "I've never had an orange. They were always too expensive for Mum to buy. It was better to just get Char more dog food."

I nodded, savouring the orange as the cold, delicious juice ran down the back of my throat. "Mom and Dad always got them for Bella and I at Winterlude. Bella always told me that they only grew in Four and Eleven. Anywhere else was too cold. I remember I wanted to have an orange tree in our backyard, so I planted my Winterlude orange in the soil and waited for it to grow. When I dug it up, I found nothing. Bella had stolen it."

Aris laughed, chewing the orange and jumping off of the chair. "I know where we can find a place like the outside. Do you want to come?"

Aris leaped away from me, not bothering to hear my answer. My curiousity bade me follow her, and I jogged into the bedroom car and into a strange room. Aris stood there, holding a remote and strapping on a harness. "Come on! Don't be a chicken."

I took a harness and strapped it on carefully, watching Aris. She tossed me a visor, and I put it on as well, unsure of what would happen next. What madness had she gotten herself into? The fall on the stage must have muddled her brains as well as her nose.

Aris clicked a button and whooped, soaring up into the roof. My harness quickly followed, carrying me up into the ceiling. I yelled in delight as I soared across the room, a strong wind blowing me across and the harness holding me in place. It was like I was flying, flying away from life!

Aris tapped her visor and gestured to the ground, winking at me and maneuvering around the room. I uncertainly tapped the visor, and the ground turned to a large forest, animals scurrying around the room and the birds chirping happily. I was flying, free of any worries in the world. The Capitol would eventually make me come down, but for now, I was just going to fly. I was going to forget. I was going to enjoy my freedom.

 _As long as it lasted…_

 **Nehemiah Bunting, 15, District 8 Male**

 _Crash!_

I looked up from my seat, surprised at the sudden sound. Tomas flushed red as he picked up the now-broken cup he had dropped on the floor, placing it inside of the garbage disposal. He had a right to be nervous. Tomas had only won last year, becoming the first victor to come from District Eight. He was all alone this year.

"Are you ok, Tomas?" I asked, standing up and coming to help him out. A servant with red clothing stepped in front of me and stopped me, holding out his hands and keeping me away while more of them came to clean up the mess and usher Tomas away. Tomas flushed again as he came to stand next to me, watching the servants clean up the mess quickly and efficiently. "Thank you, Nehemiah, for offering your help. I guess I'm not used to doing this yet."

I nodded sympathetically, sitting back down and fingering my mother's old button. "I break things a lot. Dad says I probably need glasses, but we don't have the money for them."

Tomas patted me on the back, sitting down on one of the couches. "I guess that's something we could do in the Capitol. I'll look into finding glasses for you, if you want. We could go into the shops, and the optometrists can help test your eyes. Capitolites go all of the time to get contacts for themselves. I personally hate those things, they're too slimy. I'm glad I don't need glasses, I'd probably lose them easily. That's the trouble with glasses. They get lost so easily, in a couch or anywhere."

I nodded, then waved as Hollister came in. "How are you doing, Hollister? Was your sleep ok?"

Hollister blushed and nodded. She sat down and poured herself a bowl of oatmeal before eating it slowly, not looking up at either of us. Tomas sighed quietly, then stood up. "I'm going to the Game car. Anyone want to come with me?"

I shook my head, sitting down and looking through the window. The scenery was beautiful, flashes of colour on the ground as we raced through fields. The world outside was as colourful as the fabric in Eight.

Hollister finished her oatmeal and stood up to put it on the counter, one of the servants whisking it away quickly. She looked at the counter in awe, tracing her finger across the wood. "It's mahogany!"

I looked at it as well, noting the quality of the wood. "It is!"

Hollister flinched, sitting back down and staring out of the window once more. I sat down next to her, pointing out of the window. "I love how Panem is so colourful. It looks like the patterns that Dad made for me when I was younger. I loved to colour back then, how about you?"

"I like to make things," Hollister said slowly, still staring out of the window. "Da didn't like me to waste things, but I still made lots of things."

Hollister's lip quivered, and she buried her head in her arms to sob quietly. "I just want to go home. Why does the Capitol want to make us do this? Why do they want us to die?"

"I don't know," I said, my lip quivering slightly as well. Dad was likely inside of our house right now. Usually, I'd be brewing coffee for him, making sure that he had enough to get him ready for his day of work at the factories. He was alone now. All alone…

"Thank you for being here," Hollister said, looking up at me with a tear-stained smile. "I didn't want to go into the Games with a mean partner. You're so nice."

I smiled, pulling Hollister up onto her feet. "Could I call you Holly? I think it suits you."

Hollister giggled, throwing back her red hair. "Sure! I always wanted a nickname."

I laughed, running out of the car and taking Holly with me. "Let's go see Tomas! Maybe he knows what we could do on this train."

"Sounds good!" Holly laughed, running in front of me to the Game car. Even if we were reaped, we wouldn't let the Games break us. We would find a way to smile.

 **Giovanna Fillinfini, 18, District 9 Female**

"I love you too, Rosanna. Take care! Oh, that's great to hear about your boy. Make sure that they feel good. That's all they need right now. Love you, rose by any other name!" Falcon hung up the phone, looking back at Paxton and I. I stared back at the man who dared to marry another victor, unify two districts to one another. The rumours running around District Nine were that he had married her because she had become pregnant with their first child during a one night stand, that they had married just days later to hide the fact that they had their first child, Francisco, out of wedlock. They said that the two were unfaithful to one another, that they were blemishing the names of their districts. I looked at one of the subjects of these rumours, looking into his eyes. Falcon's eyes were not the eyes of a cheater.

"Well, do you two want to do anything right now? We could play a game, or talk strategy, or do anything you guys want! As long as you're happy." Falcon tousled the hair of a tear-stained Paxton, sitting down next to both of us. There was a pile of games, books, paper, pencils, almost anything that Falcon could think of to console us. He was really trying to help us feel better about what had happened. It made sense, considering that the usual tribute from Nine was a young kid like Paxton who sat down and cried their way through the Capitol. Only a few had actually made it past the bloodbath. I wanted to be one of them.

"I'd love to talk strategy!" I said, grabbing a sheet of paper and a pencil. Falcon had won the Hunger Games, after all. He was my best option for advice.

Falcon lit up, smiling and turning on the television. He flipped to the District Five reaping, pointing at the two tributes. "These are Rosanna's. The girl is the daughter of a peacekeeper and a Capitolite from what she's told me, and the boy is the son of two inventors. The girl apparently might be too volatile to work with, but if steered in the right direction, you can get tributes like her to do anything. Tomas did that last year with a couple of other tributes. He's the only one left of them now."

I nodded, writing it down onto my notes. I needed all of this information if I could find several allies for myself. Every tribute could be useful to me.

Falcon flipped next to the District Twelve reapings, pointing at the little boy racing to the stage as if it was a matter of life or death. "You want to at least to get to know him. Paxton, this guy has drive if he's that energetic about the Games. He's going far, and you should work with him. Giovanna, you too. Twelve-year-olds aren't the weaklings everyone paints them out to be. I have a feeling that if a tribute's not careful, they'll find their cannon booming before him. You never do know about District Twelve."

Paxton nodded, tears still streaming down his face. I looked at him, pitying what had happened. He was such a sweet guy from what I knew of him, and I knew that I was going to ally with him. It was only fair to Pax.

Falcon nodded to both of us, pointing at the girl. "She's a threat too. She has a frame about her that hints she isn't another starving girl from the seam. Keep an eye out for her." He paused, letting it sink in, before turning the television onto the District One reaping, pointing at the two on the stage. "Rosanna's told me through the grapevine that these two aren't very attached to one another. If you want to start to split the careers apart, get these two on edge somehow. I've seen alliances collapse because others planted the seed of doubt into their minds."

I nodded, mentally noting that in my mind. I might not want to stir up trouble, but if I needed to, I was willing to do so. Paxton lit up momentarily next to before reverting back to his distress, sniffling again in his seat. I stared curiously at him for a second, before turning my attention back to a lecturing Falcon. Paxton was just a sweet person who had the bad luck of being reaped. He wouldn't ever think of hurting another person in the Hunger Games, let alone kill them.

 _Would he?_

 **Marshall Furr, 16, District 10 Male**

Carol seemed to be glaring silently at me from where she was positioned on the couch.

It was already the second day on the train, and I was finally starting to get antsy. I had tried to do pushups and squats, but nothing compared to just riding Mantilla out on the plains, with nothing to see but the sky. I had eventually resorted to just eating food, and I was thoroughly enjoying the cinnamon toast. It was almost as good as the bacon sandwiches that Mom always made for me when I was ready to go out for an afternoon of watching the cattle. Capitolite food couldn't equal the love that my mother put into our food. It was too good of an ingredient for Capitolites to match.

I had explored most of the train to get a feel for what it was like and had found the front of the train, the Game car, some room with harnesses, a sauna, and the servant's quarters. Everything else was either under lock or just not there. These things were my only world until I reached the Capitol. It was nothing compared the freedom I had back in District 10. The train was just a cage to transport Carol and me to the last cage of all: the arena.

Our mentor had been sleeping in, claiming that they needed their sleep. Chamonix was still here, but he was basically useless. Beyond from making a fashion statement and reaping tributes, escorts were basically good for nothing. The only thing I could do was get him to like me in order to have a bigger flow of sponsor money go towards myself. I wasn't sure who he was liking better, though. There was only one other person competing for the money, and I had no idea of who she was or what she was doing.

I looked at Carol, who had abruptly turned away from me to stare out of the window. I couldn't get a read on the girl. She was the kind of person who was hard to understand, yet seemed to have a simple personality. It might have been the fact that she might have been deliberately ignoring me, or maybe it was just the shock of the Games, but I wasn't sure on what to think of her. And if I couldn't figure her out, I would either have to ignore her or get rid of her.

"So, you're the butcher's girl?" I asked, chewing on the buttered toast. Carol turned back towards me, her emotions completely masked by the impassive expression on her face. "Why do you ask?"

"You know how to use a knife?" I asked dryly, not bothering to play out the conversation anymore. I wanted to know if she was useful. If not, she was no concern of mine. I couldn't waste my time with people who couldn't help me get back home.

"Yes, and if you want, I'll demonstrate my skills on you," Carol replied, turning back to the window. I groaned inwardly, reconsidering my approach. She obviously was valuable, but I was antagonizing her. I needed another strategy. I needed to win the Games for myself before they even started, and Carol could possibly be a help. If not, I'd have to dispose of her in the bloodbath. That would be… unnecessary.

"How is your family? Did the fire ruin your home?" I asked, waiting for her response. Carol paused, then let the floodgates loose. It was too sensitive of a topic to hold back.

"We're out on the streets, Marshall. Do you know what that's like? Do you know what it's like to lose everything, and then, on top of it all, watch your parents fall apart? How do you think my mother feels right now? Because she wasn't rich, our house is gone. We've lost everything. She's even lost me in the reapings because I had to help our family survive on something other than the meat people don't want. And then there's you, you and your rich grandfather acting like you own the world. You have everything, Marshall. You don't know how we feel. You aren't one of us. You will never be one of us."

I gasped, shocked by her words. Carol seemed shocked by them as well, turning away from me and walking out of the room. I turned away from her as well, pondering her words in my mind. Was I really an outsider? Did the town resent my family because we were better off than the rest of them?

 _Was I not accepted by the town because I had more privilege?_

I watched the Capitol come into view, the spires of the mountains sticking up against the horizon. It looked even less promising than I thought it would. It looked like it could be my grave.

 **Pepper Maywell, 16, District 11 Female**

I shivered as I watched the Capitol come into view. Mother had always told me about how fanciful the Capitol was, how beautiful it was when it was allowed for citizens of the districts to visit it. That was before the Dark Days. Mother had said the districts were called realms before that, and we were named the realm of Organo. I had remembered the name. It sounded true to the hardworking nature of District 11, the way we all just lived our lives in our own little ways. It sounded like myself. I rolled the name over my tongue, letting it spill into the train. It sounded comforting. It sounded strong. It sounded like home.

Mother had always told me that Capitolites loved to create things, that they made things for the sheer sake of creation. Mother had always loved art and had tried to instill a love of it in myself. I hadn't remembered much, but I remembered her paintings. Mother had painted in the early morning before she went to work, and they were always of District Eleven. She showcased the wild beauty that was my home.

Aunt Ingrid had always said that Capitolites were insensitive people who only cared about parties and having a good time. She had told me about excess feasts, feasts where the host served more than the guests were able to finish. She said that she knew a man who had drank something to make him vomit so that he could keep on eating. I thought it was a disgusting thing, getting rid of food to make room for more. There were starving people in our district, just wishing for another piece of food. There were tiny babies dying because their mothers didn't have the milk to feed them, and the Capitolites had the audacity to waste food like that. They sounded like worse monsters than the careers.

What would they be like? Would they be like what Aunt Ingrid said they were, horrible people who only cared about pleasure, or would they be like the paradise that Mother always told me about? Would they wish to create beauty, or only see it? Or would they be what I thought? Could they, in some way, be just like myself? They couldn't be that different than me, could they? They were only human, after all.

The scratch of a pencil reached my ears, and I turned to see Cornelius doodling something on a piece of paper. He turned to me and smiled, showing a perfect depiction of Vannili. I laughed aloud, tousling his hair. "You have a real gift! The hair is so Vannili, it's perfect!"

Cornelius grinned, taking out another piece of paper and looking up at me. "I'll do you next if you want. Would you like that?"

I nodded enthusiastically, letting Cornelius draw to his heart's content. He looked up frequently, making sure that his work was accurate, before throwing up his hands in satisfaction. "Voila!"

I looked down at the image and saw myself. I saw my hair in the pigtails they always stayed in, I saw my large eyes, and I saw my thin face, but I saw something more. In a few strokes of his pencil, Cornelius had captured the hope I was feeling. He had captured me.

I gasped, putting my hands up to my mouth. "It's so good! I love it so much! Oh my, if only Peara could see this, she'd love it. You made me look pretty!"

Cornelius blushed, running his hand through his hair. "But you are pretty! I just draw what I see."

I impulsively hugged Cornelius, holding him tightly. "You're the sweetest thing I've ever known, Cornelius. Thank you. Thank you for your gift."

Cornelius smiled shyly, handing the drawing to me. "I think you'd like to have this."

I smiled again, opening my locket and folding the paper so that it could fit inside of it neatly. "I'll treasure it, Cornelius. Thank you. Thank you for who you are."

 **Moon Krak** **ów, 17,** **District 12 Female**

Pollux Corbinus was a despicable man.

Even Arbour seemed to be wary of his moods, staying away from him and trying to chat with Bernard and me. I had brushed Arbour away, but I couldn't shake my mind from the fact that Pollux didn't seem to care about either of us. He had complained bitterly about how he wished he was in the Capitol, drinking with his friends, and had just sneered whenever we came near him. Bernard had retaliated by flicking small orange peels at him, but I kept my distance. Animals who acted like that always had a vicious bite. I didn't want to get hurt.

Bernard sidled up to me, holding a bun and biting on it voraciously. "You want to go watch the train pull into the Capitol?"

I nodded my head, following an excited Bernard to the front of the train. We were almost at the Capitol, passing through a large tunnel that would take us into the city. Grandmother had said that the Capitol would be a welcome surprise to me. She always started to mutter about how we knew nothing about culture after she stated the fact, but I ignored her. It was best to leave Grandmother alone when she was in one of those moods.

Bernard ran to the large windowed car and sat down on the small couch. "See, you can see the light at the end of this tunnel! We're almost there, Moon!"

I watched the light grow brighter, adjusting my eyes to the light as we exited the tunnel. I squinted, then opened my eyes wide to see the Capitol. The sun shone on an enormous lake, ad the Capitol was nestled alongside it. The train shot along the track to the Capitol, leading us to our fate. It was time to see our home for the next week.

As the train rushed into the Capitol, I saw thousands upon thousands of people cheering the train nervously. Arbour had said we'd be the last ones to enter the Capitol, so the crowds would be excited form seeing their other 22 tributes live for the first time. We were the last ones.

The Capitolites cheered as the train slowed down, let us stop. Arbour rushed into the room, panting as he bade us to the door. "Come on, my tributes! There is no time to waste! You have to smile for the cameras, a good shot could get you two on the front page! Don't forget to look happy!"

Bernard waved enthusiastically at the crowd, letting them eat it up. They cheered for him, but I refused to smile. They were the ones who were going to view my death as entertainment. I refused to give them the satisfaction of having another person play along with their game.

 **And… Done the train rides! Gosh, that took a while, but I'm glad to be done! Next will be the parade, so stay tuned! What did you think of the tributes? Who is your favourite as of now? Any alliances coming into formation? Tell me in a review! By the way, you should read All The World if you want to know more about my pre dark days HC. I'm enjoying it, and you might too! Remember to read and review! Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	20. The Parade: Hide Your Flaws

**Zora Stikander, 16, District 2 Female**

My stylists seemed repulsed by my scar.

Every so often I could see them looking at it, slightly gazing at it before they turned away to tear another layer of skin off of my body. I grinned at all of them, refusing to show any pain. That wasn't my way.

As I waited for the stylists to continue their pillaging of my body hair, I looked around the large room I was in. My section was cut off from the rest by a paper curtain, but I could still see the silhouettes of other tributes. Some seemed to bear the pain of being cleaned, while one of the girls next to me positively screamed with anger at her stylists. The woman cleaning my hair grimaced as she listened to a particularly foul set of epithets from the young girl, shaking her head in disapproval before yanking another knot out of my hair. I fought back the urge to yell and remained calm, listening with delight to the whimpers of pain from the other tributes. The Hunger Games were a game of stamina. So far, I was proving to the rest that I was winning.

The stylists kept working on my body, tearing out strips of hair from places I didn't know I had. One of the stylists stood up and grabbed a hose, turning to the others. "Do you think that she's ready for another washdown?"

"One more. Lucretia will enjoy this one," a man with particularly manicured eyebrows replied, waxing my legs. I would have taken offense of the man if it wasn't for the fact that he seemed not to notice that I was a person. We were all just a piece in their game, nothing more. I was another object to dress up and throw into the Games. I didn't care.

"But… what about her scar?" another whispered, not noticing that they had drawn a bit of blood with their next strip. I scowled slightly, but not because of the pain.

 _Jaycen sneered at me as she leaped away from my sais, holding her sword close to her. "You're just another pet project of the instructors, Zora. You can't even beat me, not in your wildest dreams."_

 _I leaped forward in reply, stabbing my sais at her stomach. They glanced off of the side of her protective armour, causing the instructors to signal a point towards me. "I'll be much better than you ever will, Jaycie. Isn't that sad?"_

 _Jaycen snarled at me, leaning towards me with her sword. It crashed against my sais, leaving both of us straining against one another. "You… little… "_

 _Jaycen's arm flashed towards my face, knocking off my helmet. I gasped in surprise as she grinned, ducking under my sais and stabbing her sword towards my face. "You won't be better than me for long, Zora. Isn't it sad when a star student comes crashing down? It makes the disappointment all that much more crushing."_

I smiled once more, letting the water rush down my body as the stylists washed me down for the last time. Jaycen hadn't been so smug when I poisoned her water bottle in retaliation. I believed in revenge. She had taken away my eye, I had put her six feet under. If anyone ever crossed me again, they'd be joining her as well, and I would not hesitate to do so. These Games were mine to win.

 **Keelan Spinnaker, 17, District 4 Male**

I listened to the screams of another tribute as their stylists continued to mercilessly strip them of all body hair, begging for mercy from someone, anyone who could help them. It was hilarious. In this game of survival which they had been so displeased to be placed in, people still found it worse that they were caused pain. I hadn't been waxed before, but it wasn't that bad. I was willing to endure it in order to gain sponsors. If I didn't, there wouldn't be much of a point of myself even trying to do well in the parade. I was aware of my good looks. I wouldn't let those go to waste.

My stylists clucked their tongues in approval and let me slip on a paper gown to wear while they went to fetch my stylist. I walked over to a small table and grabbed an apple, chewing on it as I waited. I wasn't looking forward to my costume. District Four always managed to get the worst outfits that the stylists could think of, and this year would likely be no exception. Monique wouldn't look good in a seahorse.

Come to think of it, I hadn't learned much about Monique in the two days we had spent on the train. Sure, I had learned that she was Craig's brother, everyone in District Four knew that and she had gotten close to Mags, but I hadn't learned what made her tick. That wasn't a good sign for me. Bastion and Misty would be snickering if they knew I hadn't taken many advantages of those days on the train ride. If I was at home with them, Misty would be lecturing me on how I wasted my time there, and Bastion would be running me over what I had to catch up on. I listened to what he had to say in my head, then realized my problem. I needed to figure out a strategy. I needed to win it for them. And if I did, I needed to figure out who to take down in the bloodbath.

From what Monique and I had seen from the reapings, there were a couple of threats from the outliers. The boy from Ten seemed strongly built, and his frame suggested that he hadn't grown up in poverty. There was also the girl from Twelve with the cunning eyes, eyes that seemed to lure you in before she cut you into pieces. I didn't trust people like that. They were the hunters. Hunters were dangerous.

And what of the solitary volunteer? She was a threat, practically frothing at the mouth at the chance of coming into the arena. She would be sure to be taken out by one of us. We didn't need a maniac running around the arena. The other two, I wasn't so sure of. I wasn't sure what to choose. I had to use my backup plan. If not, I would be endlessly flipping back and forth. It was best to leave it to fate. I'd always been lucky, I just hoped that Lady Luck would kiss me again.

I opened my clenched hand and took out the coin that Bastion and I had flipped to see who would volunteer, watching the shiny luster of the sides. Heads for the boy, tails for the girl. I flipped it up in the air before catching it in the palm of my hand and flipping it over onto the back of my left. Tails.

 **Carol Farrier, 13, District 10 Female**

"Oh, my darling, you are a beauty in my eyes! Turn around for Gaia, that is it! Thank you very much, darling!"

I listened to the lilting accent of Gaia, who was busy admiring my newly-straightened hair. She had gushed over the gloss of it and was now moving on to her drawing board. "Oh, darling, I knew that my preparations would be perfect! Now, I must go and find your district partner! You two will be a handsome couple up on your chariot!"

I smiled politely, turning around one more time for Gaia before sitting down in the paper gown that the stylists had provided me. I looked at the wall and waited, knowing that Gaia would come back soon. Marshall seemed to be the type of person that would comply with Gaia in order to get it over with quickly.

The minutes ticked by and I waited patiently, humming a little tune that my mother had taught me. I would have sung the words aloud, but I didn't want to disturb anyone else close to me. Instead, I whispered them quietly, remembering how my mother sang it to me. She sang it to every child when they were young and didn't want to sleep. I remembered listening to it on the stairs as Mom sang it to a fussy Egan, singing him to sleep. It was the only song I knew.

 _I bless my home, may it serve us well,_

 _May the sun always shine on the wall,_

 _May the windows be clean and the stars always shine_

 _Over the child inside, so small._

 _May the beds let one dream,_

 _May the floors always let one's feet spring,_

 _May the light welcome one,_

 _May it always be happy and bright,_

 _May nature always watch over our fair home,_

 _And may it be home for us all this fair night._

I finished the lullaby silently, letting the words fade away from my mind. A tear trickled down my cheek and I let it fall onto the floor, splashing silently onto the grey tiles. Mother… I wanted Mother… I wanted to be home…

Gaia came back in with a flourish, smiling triumphantly at me with a stunningly white dress with a black ribbon. "Look at this, child! Is it not perfect for you? Oh, child, why are you crying? Is there something wrong with the dress? Do you not like it? Oh, I have failed as a stylist. I am sorry, my darling."

I shook my head, willing no more tears to spill out. I didn't need to show weakness to a stranger. I was being dramatic. It wouldn't do to cry in the parade. I had already made a fool of myself by crying in front of Gaia.

 _But I want to go home…_

 **Aris Orchards, 16, District 7 Female**

I let my stylist team outfit me in the beautiful brown dress that they had chosen for me, chattering quietly to themselves about how fancy dress was all the rage this year. I was happy. Usually, stylists outfitted tributes from District Seven in a lumberjack costume or went the literal route by making them both a tree, but the stylists had decided to dress me in a satin brown dress with a green top. Another was crowning me with a laurel of leaves and flowers, positioning it inside of my hair to look like it was woven into my head. I stared in the mirror at the fierce woman I was in this dress, memorizing the way my dirty-blonde hair twisted around my head, the way my face was accentuated by the highlights the stylists had painted on, and noting, with some distaste, the addition of padding for my breasts. The stylists had obviously decided my chest was too flat for this dress.

I looked away from the mirror to look at my chattering stylists, all smiling happily at each other as they worked on hemming my dress to fit me perfectly. Helena, the head stylist, watched on with approval, occasionally barking out orders to the others in order to make sure that it was perfect. It was perfect. I looked like a goddess of the woods. I looked graceful.

Helena cried out in delight as the stylists stepped away, clapping her hands together with delight. "My goodness, she is ready! Take her to her partner, he will be ready as well. We have outdone ourselves. Valerie will be eating her heart out at this look. She will not make District Eleven look better than these two!"

I glided out through the hallway, taking care not to trip on anything. I didn't need to ruin this dress. The stylists had thankfully not made me wear high heels, instead of fitting me in comfortable slippers. I had hoped for the boots I had worn on the train, but I didn't complain. They had already done so much for me. I could actually draw sponsors with this outfit!

I took careful steps towards the door, Helena opening it graciously for me. As I walked through the door, I saw Ryker wearing a light brown tuxedo with vines seeming to wind around his body, creating the aura of another tree. I walked lightly towards him to see the ax he carried and a small grin on his face. He looked comfortable with the ax he carried in his right hand; a little too comfortable. Ryker, no matter how he had acted on the train, was a threat. I couldn't let my guard down around him yet.

Ryker smiled lightly as I approached him, pointing to the horses that were lined in front of each chariot. "Beautiful, aren't they?"

"Oh my gosh, they are!" I gushed, taking a step towards the beautiful horse that was directly in front of me. I had never been on a horse, but I had always loved them, drawing crude pictures when I was young and posting them around the horse. I watched the bright, intelligent eyes flicker towards me, and then turn back to the man who was feeding him a carrot. I gasped in excitement, then turned back to Ryker. "What do you say about finding our way onto those beautiful things?"

 **Cornelia Fields, 13, District 11 'Male'**

I traced my hand along the table, pretending that my hand was a pencil and the table was a piece of paper. It was so much easier to wait for my outfit when I pretended to draw the dress I wanted so badly. I had added little frills on the sides, making the dress more extravagant and beautiful, and had made the sides long and flowing, just like the dresses inside of the magazine that my Mother got for herself every birthday. It was perfect. And it was what I was hoping for today. Perhaps the stylists would add some fruit or something else to make it more District-Eleven-ish, but it would still be beautiful in my eyes. Pepper and I would have fun on the chariot, waving to the crowds and laughing about how silly they were. She was so nice to talk to, and she seemed to like me a lot. Maybe the stylists would let us wear matching dresses! It would be perfect…

My stylist burst into the room, holding a fruit-covered vest and a spiffy white shirt and black pants. "I have it, my young man! You will look wonderful out there among all of the extravagant outfits! I'm sure a few sponsors will sponsor a fine young man such as yourself!"

I stammered, looking at the vest with dismay. It was a fine thing, with each fruit that grew in the orchards of Eleven embroidered onto it by hand, but it wasn't what I wanted. "Umm, excu-excuse me, but I'd actually, I'd actually like… " I shrank back as my stylist looked at me, not sure of what they would think of my words. "... A… dress."

My stylist laughed, putting a hand to her bosom. "But you're the District Eleven Male! Why would I want to put a fine young man like yourself in a dress? The very thought is preposterous. You're a funny young man, Cornelius. I like you! I like you a lot."

"Yeah, I was just joking," I said, deepening my voice and shrinking away from my laughing stylist. "I just wanted to see if I could make you laugh."

My stylist clapped me on the back, still chortling as she walked out of the room. "A dress! My stars, he's a funny young man! He'll be a riot in the interv… "

I nodded unhappily, looking at the outfit that my stylist had put out for me. For a moment I considered not putting it on, finding something to wear myself, but then I relented. If she hadn't understood what I had meant, I couldn't trust that the Capitol would be different. I didn't want to be alienated once more. I needed to be accepted, even if I had to change myself. I'd hide it away, safe from the Capitolites. They wouldn't have to see from me what they didn't like.

 **Mira Bevoire, 16, District 3 Female**

I walked uncomfortably to the chariot with Shawn, smiling uncertainly at our stylists beaming widely at the both of us. The dress I had been forced to wear was beeping quite loudly, and my head felt bare without my top hat. My outfit… well, it wasn't me. The pixels dancing up and down the dress were nice and all, but I didn't feel like myself in it. I didn't want the Capitol to view me like this. I felt too vulnerable to go onto the chariots.

I didn't like crowds; never liked them at all. Even in school, I had faked sick or hid in the bathroom whenever I was supposed to present something to the class. They were loud, they seemed violent, and you never knew exactly who or what was hiding inside of them. At least in the arena, there would only be 24 of us. I didn't think I could deal with more. There would be too many.

Shawn flicked off a piece of dust from his futuristic tuxedo, frowning slightly at the growing crowd. "They're all here to watch us be paraded out like dolls. I don't like feeling like a piece in their Games. It isn't right."

I nodded, looking at the crowds of people lining up from side to side of the parade route. Some started to scream as they got a glimpse of the chariots lining up at the start, and one ran onto the course to be apprehended by the peacekeepers. "I don't like this very much. I wish that we can just get this over with quickly. I feel like I'm going to drown in this crowd."

Shawn helped me onto the chariots, ready to wave to the people. "What do you think that we'll be overshadowed by basically every other district? I feel like we are… mediocre."

I smiled unhappily, standing up on the chariot and getting ready as well. "Maybe mediocre won't be noticed. That's a plus for me."

"And then we can fly under the radar of the Capitolite sponsors and the careers. We stay quiet, find another ally, and we'll be ready. They won't know what hit them in the arena."

 **Taffeta Paisley, 18, District 1 Female**

I twirled around in the dress once more, admiring how light and airy it felt. The gems interwoven into my hair clinked together slightly, and I smiled. I would be the toast of the parade! No one would be able to ignore me in this dress, this beautiful, beautiful dress. Oh, I wished I could stay in it forever, nothing could harm me when I looked this beautiful. I felt above the crowd in my chariot. The horses pulling it were adorned with gems as well, nickering handsomely as they started to trot down the line. Luxx was standing next to me, a sour look on his face from the way his suit had messed up. Unable to fit gems into his hair, the stylists had settled with putting them onto the sides of his suit. Luxx looked tacky.

"Are you ok, Luxx?" I asked, smiling happily at the crowds. Luxx growled, clenching his fists together. "Shut up, idiot. I'll prove to them who the strongest of all of us is in the private sessions."

"You have fun with that, darling!" I replied, waving to the Capitolites as the crowd roared. "Smile, Luxx! The crowd is waiting!"

The crowd screamed even louder as we paraded past them, tossing roses onto our chariot. Luxx caught one deftly, but the majority went to me. I blew kisses to the crowd whenever a person tossed a rose, and the crowd leaped for it as if it was a rose. I gasped in excitement as I realized what I had to do. I blew another and took a gem out of my hair, fingering it and preparing to throw. I held it in my hand, waited for another zealous man throwing a rose, and tossed it directly towards him. The crowd screamed in delight and leaped for it, a little boy emerging from the fighting crowd with the gem in hand. I winked at him and he smiled, putting his thumbs up and screaming loudly. This was my parade. This was what I had volunteered for!

 **Bernard Hancock, 12, District 12 Male**

Moon plucked another yellow feather off of her canary themed dress, throwing it under the chariot to be trampled by the band walking behind us. "This is stupid. I feel like my parents would make me wear something like this."

I laughed and danced around the chariot again, this time somersaulting around Moon and getting a few more roses tossed towards me. "I rather like my yellow tuxedo. At least the stylists only put feathers on the arms. I can say I'm a bird!"

Moon groaned again, pointing up the line. "But look at everyone else! We're nothing compared to them. Nothing, Bernard!"

I glanced at the front of the line to see what Moon was talking about, noting with slight dismay that it was true. District One had a gem themed dress and tuxedo, while District Two's somehow seemed to be made of steel and stone. I squinted at them again before turning to District Three's flashing lights, which momentarily blinded me. I blinked frantically to gain my sight back and watched the District Four chariot make it to the end. It was hands-down one of the best costumes, an ethereal dress and tuxedo that somehow looked like water was rippling down the tributes. The girl looked especially fierce, with her shockingly red hair contrasting nicely with the blue fabric.

District Five had yellow and grey costumes, and I noted with some delight that they looked relatively like ours. The girl growled and tried to shake off a piece of the dress, while the boy waved to the crowd again, earning a rose. District Six seemed to be themed once more off of conductors, with both wearing a cap and a striped dress and tuxedo. I pointed at them to Moon. "Can you see how they're jostling each other?"

Moon laughed chillingly, rubbing her hands together. "It seems as if we have found another district at odds with one another. It is so much easier to kill a person when they're too busy fighting another to see you coming."

I shivered, turning back to see the District Seven costumes. Somehow they had managed to jump onto the horses and were waving happily to the crowds in their dress and tuxedo. I grinned in admiration, looking momentarily down at the horse below me. I shook my head at the thought. That would just be copying them. I couldn't do that. It would seem cheap.

District Eight seemed to be dressed up as dolls, with bright red cheeks and patchwork suits and dresses. I clapped for the boy, who was dancing the girl around the chariot and turned to Moon cheekily. "May I have this dance?"

Moon snorted, turning away from me. "Not until your voice falls, squirt. I don't date toddlers. I don't date anyone."

I laughed, watching the chariot from Nine reach the end. The girl had on an interesting dress that seemed to be made up of wheat, earning plenty of roses that she tucked into the dress, but the boy seemed to look like a scarecrow. Even though we were three chariots apart, I could still see the scowl on his face. No one was tossing roses to him.

The crowd cheered as District Ten made it to the end, the boy and girl dressed up in a stunning black and white tuxedo and dress. I could practically hear their stylists snickering to one another, knowing that this was the one year they could get away with it. And yet they did, waving to the crowd and getting a huge amount of roses. District Ten had made an impression.

District Eleven seemed uncomfortable in their outfits, the girl poking at the fruit on her dress, and the boy quivering with tears in his eyes as he finished in the fruit covered vest. The crowd had seemed to like them, yet had also not, with half-hearted cheers going to the pair.

Finally, it was us, racing into the square where the rest of the chariots were lined up. We sidled up to the pair from Seven, watching them breathe in excitement as the horses stopped. I whistled in admiration, causing the girl to turn around and see me. She smiled and waved, and I waved back. She must have been plucky to have done that. I should have done the same before, but that was the luck of the draw. They deserved their applause. But I would find more. I would make sure the crowd would remember me as well. Perhaps it wouldn't happen in the parade, but later in the Games, I'd make my mark. Bernard Hancock would be known by the Capitol by the end of the week.

 **Tony Dongalls, 17, District 6 Male**

I watched President Ember walk up to her balcony, keeping a critical eye trained on all of the tributes. She smiled slightly as she saw all of us twenty-four lined up all in a row, ready for slaughter. We were dolled up in these idiotic costumes to appease the crowds. She was probably laughing at us. I didn't like people laughing at me. I smirked at her as she looked at our chariot and flipped her the bird, causing her to gasp, then laugh slightly. She shook her head at me and walked back into the Presidential Mansion, ending the parade. As she walked away, Isa lowered her salute and glared at me, pushing me to the side of the chariot. "Why would you act like that to your president? I hope the peacekeepers lock you up, dunce."  
I laughed at Isa, leaping down easily from the chariot and shedding the conductor's hat. The horse nickered in surprise as it landed directly on her eyes, and it threw off onto the ground, stomping on it twice for good measure. I laughed and patted the mane of the horse, looking into her eyes. It looked majestic, free, untamed. It was everything I wasn't.

I turned away from the horse and walked away from Isa, trying to find Doug. I knew that there were drinks on our floor. I saw him looking into the crowd with a strange look on his face, watching the excited people point at the replays of the parade. As I stood next to him he turned around and smiled slightly, his hand twitching slightly. "How are you, Tony?"

"Good! I'm good," I said, fidgeting slightly next to him. It had been a hard few days. I needed a drink now.

"You know, your sister came to visit me after the reapings," Doug said carefully, watching my face. I stared back at him, confused of what she would want. Akira didn't have a bad bone in her body. She couldn't have bribed him to help me, could she? Would she?

"She told me that she doesn't want you to drink. Besides, it isn't good to be intoxicated in the Capitol. Your senses are ruined in the Games. So, I was thinking, if you stay away from the bottle, I won't use morphling. Is that square?" Doug asked, his hand twitching again. I looked at the faded prick marks on his arm, some of them angrily flaring red from more recent doses. Doug did seem sober, though. I opened my mouth to say no, of course not, but then paused. I remembered my sister's face when she watched me come back into the house. There had been anger, there had been rage, but there had also been pity in her face. Akira didn't want me to drink. She didn't want me to embrace the side that came out when I drank.

And what of myself? Did I want to stop drinking? Did I want to drown all of my anger in the bottle again? Or did I want to throw away this habit? Even though I hated withdrawing, there was always a small sigh of relief when I passed through the first stage. It was small, and I usually found another bottle later on, but it was good for me. I didn't need to keep drinking. And if Doug supported me, maybe, just maybe, I could survive the Capitol. I just needed his help.

"Sure!" I said, hiding the small amount of bitterness in my voice. "We'll do it together."

 **Luxx Mortem, 18, District 1 Male**

I stepped off of the chariot and threw off the wretched ascot I was forced to wear. I stomped on it and swore loudly, causing the bay horses who had pulled our chariots to nicker loudly. I looked back at them and softened slightly, then stomped away. Not even horses could mend the horrible parade I had just been put through. The worst of it was that Taffeta had managed to own the parade. She had used the gems inside of her hair to throw to potential sponsors, sending the crowd into a frenzy. She was currently waving to the crowd, making them scream even louder, blowing kisses like crazy. She hurled the last remaining jewels into the crowd and got an even louder scream from the crowd. I groaned, turning away from Taffeta. I was being overshadowed by the one person I thought I would be able to beat, and I couldn't do anything about it until the private sessions.

I saw District Two walk away from their chariot, the girl shaking out her hair from the helmet it had been encased in. She winked at me and beckoned me over, and I walked over quickly. It was time to meet my allies. Taffeta could go die in a hole; I was going to take this advantage right away. I didn't need to wait for my district partner if she was too busy unintentionally auctioning herself off to the Capitol.

I flashed a smile at the boy from Four, winking as I walked over. He laughed and patted me on the back, bringing me into the group. "You're Luxx, right? Nice to meet you, man!"

I grinned and flashed a thumbs up to the rest of the careers. "Yeah, I'm Luxx. Taffeta's too busy with her fans."

The girl from Four, - Molly? - frowned, shaking her head. "She shouldn't be doing that. Has your mentor told you what even happens if you win? I'm Monique, by the way. My partner is Keelan."

I nodded my head, not actually knowing what Ben had told us. I had ignored him throughout the whole train rides. It was fine by him. I didn't have any support from my district. That was why I had to get in with these four. They were my best chance of surviving. And then I could wrap them around my finger…

The girl from Two laughed, punching her district partner in the arm light-heartedly. "Speak up, Jax! You can't be silent forever."

Jax blushed, waving to me. "I'm Ajax. Zora's the one making a fool out of me."

I grinned, patting him on the back. "Nice! What's it like in District Two?"

Ajax brightened momentarily, smiling at all of us. "It's actually nice there! The community can be really nice if you're accepted by them. They're going to be very passionate about these Games, though. I don't think our district realizes that Caleb's victory is over."

I laughed again, smiling at all of the others. Zora grinned wickedly at the three of us boys and stepped towards us. "How about we make the front page, gentlemen? Who wants to do it?"

I nodded, not knowing what Zora was going to do. She came closer and kissed me on the lips, twirling us into the light of the cameras. She wrapped her arms around me and kept kissing, letting go as soon as she was sure that the cameras had captured us both. "How was that, pretty boy? Front page or what?"

I laughed, pushing Zora away. "Yeah, that's a front pager. You got one thing wrong, though, Zora."

Zora frowned momentarily, pondering what she had done wrong. "What?"

I grinned wickedly, pointing to Keelan and Ajax. "Oh, I'm just gay. Nice picture, though! We're really pre-gaming, aren't we?"

 **Finished! What did you think? Any highlights of the parade? Who's made the biggest impression? Did you enjoy the parade? I certainly did, and our tributes are going to get to mingle with each other in training next time! I'm very glad with the update pace I've been going at so far. Hopefully, I can keep it up! You guys should continue to vote on the poll for favourite tribute, and also check out a 24 author 24 tribute collab I'm doing with thunderrstruck! It's going to be awesome, so go to my profile and check out the link, Amicum et Inimicum! Next chapter I'll be doing another interlude, so that should come out in the next week. Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	21. A Judgement

**Selena Arthtome, 27, Assistant Gamemaker**

I applauded with the rest of the game makers as the live feed from the parade cut off, leaving behind a blank screen. Hiram nodded grudgingly, turning back and taking another swig of his canteen of coffee. I had replaced his usual cup with a steel container so that he didn't continue to break all of the cups in the office. It had started to take a large sum out of our office budget.

Hiram walked over to me, handing me the clipboard and pointing in a general direction. "Find someone and figure out how you're going to do the first odds for these tributes. The people also want popularity numbers. Get those finished in the next fifteen minutes."

I nodded and walked away, surprised that he hadn't yelled it for once. It seemed as if Hiram, somehow, had gained a form of respect for me after I had managed the arena crisis and the serum. It was almost as if he thought I was worthy of working for him. No, that couldn't be. Hiram didn't even respect President Ember.

I ushered one of the game makers over, having them sit next to me and grabbing a sheet of all of the tributes. "Hey, Elise! We're going to have to do the first odds and popularity points for the tributes. Do you have the footage from the parade?"

Elise nodded, producing a remote and switching on the television. "I made sure to record three times, just like Mr. Grisham said. Will we start with the odds first, Ma'am?"

"Sure!" I said, setting down the paper on the table. "Let's start with the girl. Taffeta, if I'm correct?"

"Taffeta Paisley, 18, a student of the Academy for Intuitive Minds." Elise rattled off the information listed of Taffeta automatically, looking at me for approval. I nodded. "So, she's a career. Anything else?"

"Her teachers say that she's intelligent, but she can be very vain and self-absorbed."

I frowned, tapping my pen on the desk. "But she's also made a big splash at the parade. Say, 5 to 1 odds?"

"Sounds reasonable. Next is her peer, Luxx Mortem, 18, a former student at the Academy for Intuitive Minds. He was… oh, dear."

"What is it?" I asked, ready to scratch down 5 to 1 odds for the boy. Elise nodded, continuing. "He was an unofficial volunteer. Ben Quick has asked to heighten his odds and lower his popularity as a result."

I nodded, writing down 9 to 1 odds for Luxx. "He'll still be relatively high in the popularity poll for his kiss with the girl from Two. They're on the front page of a third of the papers in the Capitol, with the rest showing Taffeta and the pair from Seven. What's the girl from Two's name, again? Zora?"

"Yes, she's Zora Stikander, 16, an attendee at Clay's own Academy. She's reputed to be a good fighter and a good student, but also has a blind eye from an incident at the Academy."  
I nodded. "So she's an underdog. How about 7 to 1 odds?"

Elise smiled, continuing. "Her partner is Ajax Hollix, 17, also an attendee at the Academy. He was an official volunteer, but our sources confirm that there were several changes before he was listed as one."

"Then he's 7 to 1. Next is the Mira Bevoire girl. She's 15, right?"

"Actually, she's 16. She doesn't have any home listed in place of residence. She is apparently homeless. Her mother divorced her father several years ago and apparently did not take her in after the father died in an unexpected fire. I recommend 11 to 1 odds."

I frowned again. "So high?"

"She did help to subdue the Collector after he murdered the original Three Male."

"Of course, then. Next is the replacement. Shawn Andersen, 14, if I'm not mistaken. I'm thinking… 13 to 1 odds?"

Elise shook her head. "His grandmother was killed under the order of the government by a mysterious group. The Capitolites call them the Midnight Sun, if I'm not mistaken. His family is also rumoured to have been rebelling along with the grandmother. President Ember herself recommends 17 to 1 odds."

I whistled, impressed that the president herself had made sure to lower Shawn's odds. "Got it. Monique Rivera has made a big splash in the Capitol for her relation to Craig. Would you say that she gets 4 to 1 odds?"

Elise nodded, turning to the next. "Keelan Spinnaker is also another 4 to 1. I would say that Ashrifah Kayeut has made a splash as well. 7 to 1 because of her volunteer status?"

I nodded, writing down the numbers. "How about her district partner?"

"Wyatt Blink-Box is a smart student but does not get along well with his peers. I would recommend 25 to 1 odds for him."

I smiled. "Isa James is known for collaborating with peacekeepers to help catch criminals. Would you recommend 13 to 1 odds?"

"That sounds like a good number. Her district partner, Tony Dongalls, is one of those criminals. 16 to 1 odds sounds reasonable." Elise waited for me to write down the numbers, then continued. "Aris Orchards only lives with her mother, as her father was executed by peacekeepers for treason. 14 to 1 odds."

I smiled. "I know that the boy, Ryker, is the son of one of the heads of the lumber industries. He also is registered as a worker for the group. I'd say he deserves 9 to 1 odds."

Elise nodded, pushing her hair back from her face. "Hollister Cuero and Nehemiah Bunting were among those arrested in the recent riot in District Eight. They also only live with their fathers, as both mothers perished in the Great Influenza Epidemic several years ago. They both should receive 18 to 1 odds."

I nodded. "And Giovanna Fillinfini seems like a good choice for 10 to 1 odds. One of her students was reaped as well. Would you say that Paxton Webb deserves 23 to 1 odds?"

Elise snorted. "Try 26 to 1 after his meltdown in the reapings! My children wouldn't stop laughing for the entire day."

I laughed, remembering Paxton's meltdown. "Carol Farrier seems to be a good choice for 18 to 1 odds. Young, but her teachers say that she's level-headed."

Elise nodded. "Sources say that she might have been one of those who lost their homes in the Ten Fire before the reapings. The male tribute was involved as well, and has been noted for saving several herds of cattle from the flames."

"So Marshall Furr will receive 7 to 1 odds. And Pepper Maywell seems to be the type to receive 16 to 1 odds. She's faded into the background as of yet."

Elise nodded. "Yes, Capitolites haven't mentioned her much. Cornelius Fields hasn't been mentioned many times as well. I'd say he would receive 22 to 1 odds."

I wrote it down furiously, making sure that my writing was legible. "And Moon should receive 13 to 1 odds."

Elise shook her head. "Moon Kraków is suspected of leaving District 12 boundaries. Nothing's been confirmed, but she should receive 17 to 1 odds to be safe. We don't need to give higher odds to someone who might be breaking the law."

"Sure thing." I wrote it down quickly. "And Bernard Hancock?"

"His race towards the stage demands something better than 24 to 1 odds. Say, 21 to 1?" Elise asked.

"Sure. I've finished the popularity poll as well." I handed the document over to Elise, letting her look at it. She wrote a few things and scratched others out before she was satisfied. "It's ready for Mr. Grisham to check over."

I walked the document over to Hiram, letting him take it to the computers in order to type it in. He nodded brusquely as I handed him the papers, and fed them into the computer. "You're free to go, Arthtome."

I smiled, walking up to the door and opening it quickly. I looked one last time at the document and saw the official popularity and odds flash onto the screen.

 _ **District One Female:**_ _Taffeta Paisley, 18: 5-1_

 **District Seven Male:** Ryker Underwood, 18: 9-1

 _ **District Four Female:**_ _Monique Rivera, 18: 4-1_

 **District Two Female:** Zora Stikander, 16: 7-1

 _ **District Ten Male:**_ _Marshall Furr, 16: 7-1_

 **District Seven Female:** Aris Orchards, 16: 14-1

 _ **District Nine Female:**_ _Giovanna Fillinfini, 18: 11-1_

 **District Six Female:** Isa James, 15: 14-1

 _ **District Three Male:**_ _Shawn Andersen, 14: 12-1_

 **District Twelve Male:** Bernard Hancock, 12: 20-1

 _ **District Ten Female:**_ _Carol Farrier, 13: 17-1_

 **District Three Female:** Mira Bevoire, 16: 11-1

 _ **District Four Male:**_ _Keelan Spinnaker, 17: 4-1_

 **District One Male:** Luxx Mortem, 18: 9-1

 _ **District Eight Male:**_ _Nehemiah Bunting, 15: 18-1_

 **District Two Male:** Ajax Hollix, 17: 7-1

 _ **District Five Female:**_ _Ashrifah Kayeut, 16: 8-1_

 **District Six Male:** Tony Dongalls, 17: 17-1

 _ **District Eight Female:**_ _Hollister Cuero, 14: 18-1_

 **District Eleven Female:** Pepper Maywell, 16: 16-1

 _ **District Nine Male:**_ _Paxton Webb, 13: 26-1_

 **District Eleven Male:** Cornelius Fields, 13: 22-1

 _ **District Twelve Female:**_ _Moon Kraków, 17: 18-1_

 **District Five Male:** Wyatt Blink-Box, 14: 25-1

 **Hey, guys! I'm back ;) What did you think of this interlude? These are the most popular tributes as of now in order of their popularity, factoring in the reapings, the parade, and any things that might have caught the Capitol's attention. Any surprises? Were Selena and Elise correct in their judgments? Well, next up is training! Excitement! By the way, I've also got a new SYOT called Et Vici Mundum. Check it out! Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	22. Training I: Looking for Trouble

**Ashrifah Kayeut, 16, District 5 Female**

I watched the tributes buzzing around the bottom floor of the tower, looking like tiny little creatures from my viewpoint in the lowering elevator. Wyatt pointed excitedly at some of the tributes, laughing from where he had put his face onto the glass. "There's the boy from Three! And look, I can see the girl from Twelve! They all look like little ants, don't you think so, Ashrifah?"

I laughed, causing Wyatt to shrink back from me. They all looked like ants, all right. Ants for me to crush under my foot.

The elevator landed to the bottom floor, beeping quietly as it waited for us to leave. I stepped out first, pushing a nervous Wyatt out of the way, and strode confidently towards the other tributes. Mother had always taught me that standing up straight and seeming fierce intimidated others in her job in the Capitol. I would do the same for these tributes.

A little boy with frizzy hair shrank back from me as I walked past, hiding behind his district partner. "Is that the volunteer from Five, Pepper?" he whispered, crouching behind the skinny girl. I turned my head towards him and laughed, causing him to whimper. "Who do you think I am, shrimp?"

The boy whimpered again, and I moved on. I didn't need to waste my time with him. Besides, the instructor was starting his mandatory explanations to the rest of the group.

"Everyone, pay attention! Now, you'll be here to learn over the course of three days basic skills that you'll need to use weapons. We have instructors here to teach all of you how to wield a knife, how to hold a sword, and how to use the bow and arrow." The careers and I snigger, looking triumphantly at the rest of the tributes. We were two steps ahead of the rest. One of us was going home with the crown.

"Now, I recommend that all of you try out the survival skills stations. You might want to learn how to kill, but the cold can kill just as easily as a knife. Half of you will likely die due to infection, hypothermia, or wounds from the arena. Make sure that you know how to survive in the arena, not just to kill, but to protect." The younger tributes nodded firmly, as if it was another lesson in a schoolroom. I laughed. They had no idea of what would happen in the arena. They would never be able to rip someone's heart out, they would never have the guts to decapitate another tribute.

But I did. And I was going to win the Games.

The instructor continued to talk about how to make sure to go to the survival stations, but I ignored them. At the rate I would kill in the Games, I would only need to be in there for two days. I wouldn't even need to sleep in the arena.

The instructors finally finished speaking, and let us go with a warning about not fighting with any of the other tributes in the Games. I gave a laugh at that one. Why would they stop us from killing each other before the Games started? It would make less of a mess in the arena, that was for sure. I walked to the stations, grabbing a mace and swinging it experimentally. It felt like a feather in my hand, able to fly through the air effortlessly. I swung it once more, then slammed it into the side of a dummy. It sagged, a crack in the plastic clearly visible. I grinned. The dummies here were of a much better quality than back at home. I would have to ask for a few after my victory tour.

 **Ajax Hollis, 17, District 2 Male**

I watched the small volunteer from Five swing her mace into the dummy viciously, denting it over and over as she kept hitting it with the spiked weapon. I whistled in admiration and turned back to the rest of the careers. "We should probably watch for her. It looks like she isn't just bluster and bark after all, like Keelan thought she was."

Keelan laughed, patting me on the back. "Eh, just a wrong guess. Nothing to worry about. What do you say that we go and try out the knives?"

"Shouldn't we worry about how she's a threat to us?" Monique asked, tapping her foot impatiently. Zora frowned, looking over at the ferocious girl. The dummy fell to the ground and she kept whacking it, swinging the mace over and over. "We could… ally with her, I mean, if you guys want. One less threat to worry about, you know?"

Luxx scoffed, walking over to grab a knife from the station. "You shouldn't ally with a psychopath. That's the stupidest thing you can do in the Games. Leave her alone."

Taffeta muttered something under her breath, grabbing a knife as well. Luxx turned to her and scoffed. "What did you say, dollface?"

Taffeta laughed, throwing the knife effortlessly at the target. It landed shades away from the center, quivering from the force of the impact. "Why should I tell you? Might hurt your feelings, Luxxy."

Luxx scowled, throwing his knife as well. It landed an inch away from the center, almost slipping out from the force of the throw. Luxx swore and walked off, grabbing another knife and trying again. I turned to Taffeta. "What was that all about?"

"Oh, we just have some differences. Nothing to worry about!" Taffeta grabbed another knife and threw it, landing it right next to her original throw. She clapped with delight and grabbed another, continuing the process. I turned around to see my fellow careers. Monique had left, muttering something about eliminating the biggest threats right in the bud, and Keelan was wrestling an instructor and, by the looks of it, was winning. Only Zora was left, watching the camouflage station wistfully. I poked her gently. "Want to go try out the paint station?"

"Sure!" Zora positively flew to the station, grabbing a paint brush and mixing together a few colours. I sat down next to her, picking up a paintbrush and dabbing some brown on my arm experimentally. "What do you think of the girl from Five?"

"The shrimp? We need to watch out for her." Zora blended colours together, running it up her arm. She took a bit of black and carefully highlighted the paint, making it seem like a piece of bark. "I'm more worried about those outer-district boys. They could be dangerous."

"You mean the boy from Eight?" I asked, laughing. Zora snorted in laughter, almost smearing her work. "No! I don't mean the ones who cried through the reapings. Those wimps don't stand a chance. I'm talking about the boys from Seven and Ten."

I nodded wisely, picking up the green paint. "Which one should we kill?"

"Both. Get rid of them and the girls from Twelve and Five, and we've won. Then we poison the rest of the careers and kill off the cannon fodder who didn't somehow die in the bloodbath." Zora painted confidently, adding red to drip over her bark. The paint seemed to almost ooze over the first layer, giving the impression of crimson blood, oozing down the tree. shivered. I didn't know that Zora was that deadly. And I wasn't sure if I liked it.

 **Keelan Spinnaker, 17, District 4 Male**

I waited somewhat impatiently for the food that the avoxes were serving out to us all, pointing towards some of the burgers and fries to eat. I had only tasted beef once before when I was about five. My Grandfather had received extra money from District Four's mayor for his hard work as a civil servant. We had celebrated together with the most delicious burgers, a beauty of a burger that seemed to almost melt in my mouth. The tomatoes that Grandfather had grown were put in between the buns with the beef, and it had been absolutely perfect. I wanted another taste.

I took one of the burgers, smiling gratefully towards the avoxes. Magdalene had said that they weren't able to speak. It was really too bad. I would have enjoyed talking to them. They might have some cards to play poker, and then everything would be wonderful.

I carefully brought my tray over to the other careers, sitting down and looking at the burger. It looked bigger, juicier than the other one I had had when I was five. But I could see the resemblance, I could see the similarities between the two. Perhaps, this would taste even better than the other one.

Monique looked over at me, laughing at how I was admiring the burger. "Have you ever had one of those before, Keelan? They're pretty good. I'm going to enjoy this fried chicken before. Have you ever had chicken before, Taffeta?"

Monique and Taffeta started to gossip about the food options in District One and Four, causing the rest of us to roll our eyes. Why would it matter if District One had crepes and we had pineapples? They could have them all here if they were that interested in the dishes.

I took a bite of my burger, then spat it out onto the counter. Luxx looked over from his steak, puzzled. "Does it taste bad, Keelan?"

I shook my head, taking my burger and throwing it into the trash. It hadn't tasted bad at all. In fact, it had tasted better than anything that I had ever eaten in Four. But it had tainted my memory of the burger I had eaten with Grandfather. Now, that day paled in comparison to this burger. Another treasured memory of my childhood, another wishful belief had fallen away, leaving behind the cold reality of the world. I wished that I had never eaten that burger. If I had, I could have kept the illusion of my childhood. But worst of all, if I didn't eat the burger, I would have never have realized that in the end, the only place where I could feast like a king was in the place where I was doomed to die.

 **Moon Kraków, 17, District 12 Female**

I grinned as I spread the leaves over the trap, sprinkling them liberally across the sticks I had stabbed into the sides. It looked close enough to the forest floor for me to test it out. And if it worked, just like the rest of my traps in the district, I'd easily be able to catch tributes. It wouldn't be any different than catching animals. As long as I didn't make friends, as long as I didn't learn their names, as long as I trusted no one, I would be able to survive. And I would be able to go back home.

What would it truly be like to kill a person, though? Would it be exhilarating, like the rush of energy I got whenever I found an animal in one of my traps? Or would it be sobering, like when Grandpa died?

I would have to make sure to find out in the arena. There was no point in fighting if I wasn't going to test that. I'd have to kill at least one person slowly, just to see what it was like.

I moved the dummy closer to the trap, letting the hole bear its full weight. As it collapsed in the centre of the trap, the sticks broke, sending the dummy falling into the six-foot trap. It was impaled on the sharp sticks that I had spent the morning carving and putting them into the bottom of the trap, the stuffing inside of it slowly seeping out onto the floor. I grinned. If I made one like this in the arena, I would be able to catch, then kill the rest of the competition.

But what would the arena be? The major flaw with my plans was that I wasn't able to put that into the workings. If it was an urban arena, I would have to forget about my traps and focus on other things. I wouldn't be able to dig holes in concrete.

I looked around the training center, trying to see if the game makers had hidden any clues to our future home - and perhaps our resting place - in the training center. I saw the pool in the back of the center, the girl from Four swimming blissfully in the waters. I frowned. I never liked people who had their faces pinched like that. It always seemed as if they were trying to hide something. I would have to watch out for that girl. With any luck, she could be my prey.

I looked at the obstacle course to see the rock wall standing tall in the center, proudly showing its height to the world. Could the arena be a mountain? I wouldn't want it to. The only other mountainous arena had led to rockslides. If you were caught in a rockslide, you weren't able to get out. I didn't want to feel that feeling of having no power over my destiny. If I died, I wanted it to be on my own terms, not because I was killed by chance. I wanted to die fairly.

But I wanted to win. If I could, I would kill as many tributes as it took to get back home.

Grandma always said that if you wanted to do something, you had to start before the rest. I would make sure to start before the rest of those idiots. I would start with my training score, catching the attention of the Capitol with a silly number. But it wouldn't be silly to them, and I'd get as many sponsor gifts as I would need. I would use them to trap the rest of the tributes, let a few ie off of natural causes, and win the Games. And then I would come back home to my family. I would never have to worry about those silly boys back at home, I would never have to worry about marrying, I would just be at home with my traps and my family. Life as a victor would be perfect.

 **Marshall Furr, 16, District 10 Male**

I aimed the bow and arrow at the target, keeping an eye on the center. I visualized my arrow flying through the air, straight as an arrow, and hitting exactly inside the center of the target. I pulled back, watched the target, and released. The arrow flew through the air and hit the side of the target, nestling itself among the five other arrows that I had fired in the past few minutes. I reached back for more and grabbed air. There was none left.

I walked to the target and pulled the arrows out one by one. If it was a person I was shooting at, I would have gotten them in the shoulder and the side. Of course, a person would be running for their lives, but I was confident that I'd still be able to hit someone in battle. If only I was allowed to use a tranquilizer gun…

I put the bow and arrows away and walked around the center, watching other tributes spar and practice. The careers had currently split up, with the pair from Two chatting in the corner while practicing camouflage, the pair from One were throwing knives, and the pair from Four had split up, wrestling and battling instructors. I nodded at the boy from Four. He seemed to be a strong type, one to watch out for in the Games. He was likely more of a threat than any of the others. The pair from Two were weak, the girl from Four was paranoid, and the Ones seemed to be on edge. If I could get myself allies, the Games would be easy pickings.

I scanned the room, looking for some of the tributes I had noted so far. The tributes from Seven seemed the strongest, both currently testing out the obstacle course in the middle of the center. I watched as the girl easily maneuvered her way through the rope ladder, managing to make it to the rock wall. She smiled and flew up the wall, sitting at the top to wait for her partner. The boy followed suit, his large arms hoisting himself up to the top. They sat and chatted quietly to each other, pointing at some of the other tributes. I nodded. These were worthy allies.

I clambered up the rock wall, following the route I had mapped out to get to the top. I reached it quickly and sat down next to the two, smiling slightly. "What do you think of the view?"

The girl seemed slightly startled by my boldness, but the boy laughed and shook my hand. "It's nice up here. If you focus on the trees, it feels a bit more like District Seven."

I nodded, watching the girl from Three walking through the trees. The forest simulator started to shake and the girl bolted for a tree, hugging it tightly. "So, what are your names?"

"I'm Aris, and this big dolt is Ryker." Aris grinned cheekily at Ryker, starting to go down the rock wall. "I'm pretty sure that lunch is soon. Coming?"

"I'll come soon," Ryker said, swinging his legs along the wall. Aris nodded and raced down the rock wall, reaching the bottom quickly. Ryker turned to me, his face a mask. "Why did you want to talk with us?"

"I wanted to form an alliance with at least one of you." I waited for Ryker to ponder my statement. I had already talked enough. It wouldn't be a big deal to just come out and say it. After all, Ryker and Aris seemed to be smart. They would be good allies.

"It'd be nice to have an ally." Ryker nodded slowly, shaking my hand once more. "Should Aris be in it too, or - what on Panem was that?"

The sound of a massive explosion ripped through the training center, causing both of us to wince. My ears rang as I looked at the billowing smoke coming from the fire station, the trees around it starting to smolder, just like the prairie did back home.

What had happened?

 **Wyatt Blink-Box, 14, District 5 Male**

I tore off the protective goggles I had put on and grinned, my fire now a merry blaze. It shone bright red as it burned, the lithium I had tossed in turning the orange blaze to that colour. "Well, that was a successful experiment. Do you think that I'd be able to find any chemicals in the arena? I think that would be most beneficial towards my survival. Chemicals are never wrong, as you know. I believe that if a kind sponsor would grant me some, I could protect myself in the arena quite well. What do you think, Mister Instructor?"

"You mean that was an experiment?" The instructor's face seemed to have gone redder than the fire, and I noticed in alarm that his ears had gone bright red through the blackened skin. "You mean that you tried to see if you could get us all killed in here? Are you crazy, boy?"

I shook my head slowly, unsure if it was the right answer. "I'm… practicing?"

"Practising to kill the rest?" The instructor gave a bark of laughter, slapping his hand on his knee. "Well, you've sure done a good job at it. Do that in the Games and I might just sponsor you, son. But _don't_ do it in here again. You hear me?"

I nodded, grinning at the instructor. The lithium I had collected from the chemical station had worked better than I had ever expected. My science books were right! I would never doubt my book of chemicals again. Now, I just needed to find caesium and bring it to the pool, and my experiments would be complete. The instructors wouldn't mind it if I threw the alkali metal into water, right? Right?

Probably not. I'd save that for the arena. I'd probably get yelled at again if I blew up the pool with caesium.

 **Aris Orchards, 16, District 7 Female**

I walked past the pair from Eight, watching them dab paint onto one another. The girl giggled as she put some green on the boy's nose, then yelped in delight as the boy smeared it onto her arm. I laughed at the two. At least they were able to ignore the fact that we were going to die within the week. But if I was going to do the same, I would have to find something to do. I positively _itched_ with excitement.

I looked around the survival stations, noting the girl from Eleven studiously working on a knot with her district partner. He smiled as he easily wove the rope around and around, showing her a perfect slipknot. The girl laughed and high-fived the boy, forgetting about her own knot. They were happy as well. But I didn't want to make knots. I wanted to do something exciting. Something like… throwing knives.

I headed towards the knives, knowing that they would at least give me some peace of mind. There was something about the knife that reminded me of working with my father, helping him in the butcher shop when he was still alive. We would have races to see who could cut the meat the fastest, try to hit the wooden walls with knives that we mercilessly dented, and raced around the shop with slabs of meat, trying to be the first to fill an order.

 _Dad lay on the ground, his body riddled with bullet holes. My mother screamed as she raced towards him, cradling his broken body in her arms. She wept aloud and screamed at the peacekeepers, yelling at the ones who had taken away her only love. And I stood in the corner, hugging Char tightly. I didn't know what had happened. I didn't know what was going to happen. But blood was coming out of Dad like the meat I had helped him skin just the other day…_

I turned abruptly away from the knives, heading towards the fire station. At least I would have some peace of mind there. Maybe, just maybe, I would be able to forget my memories while making the fire. I didn't want to remember that again. But, strangely enough, I didn't want to forget. I didn't want to forget that the peacekeepers lining the doors had gunned down my father, mercilessly killing him to leave his weeping wife and his young girl. They had thought that we would shrivel away, forget about whatever Dad had done to deserve such a fate. But I wouldn't. I would remember my father.

 _But Dad isn't coming back, Aris. And if you aren't careful, you'll be going with him as well. And Mom will be all alone…_

 **Mira Bevoire, 16, District 3 Female**

I shook my head stubbornly, holding my top hat on my head protectively. I wouldn't take it off to spar with an instructor, even if I got hurt in the process. It was my hat! Why couldn't they see that?

The instructor gave up after trying to tug it off for three minutes, throwing her hands up into the air in defeat. "You win, girl! Now, just go away and do something else. No helmet, no sparring with daggers."

I shrugged my shoulders and walked off, looking for Shawn. He had disappeared off to another station when I had been arguing with the instructor, and now I was all alone. I looked around the fire station, noting with slight alarm the huge scorch mark that the explosion had made on the ground. Only the girl from Seven was there, trying to make a fire. She gasped in delight as sparks started to fly, lighting upon the dry leaves that she had piled down on the ground and catching fire. I shivered as I walked past, trying to think of something else. I didn't like fire. I just didn't. It seemed to be its own being as if it knew exactly how to hurt a person. I knew that it could. I had seen it in person.

I kept walking, finally spotting Shawn at the chemical station. He was chatting with the boy from Five, pointing at the different things on the counter. "And that's what you use to help make your Tesla coil?"

"Exactly!" replied the boy, smiling widely. "If you use it wisely, you're able to short out any circuits around you! I've done it in my house before, and I kind of, well, short-circuited the lights inside. I managed to get it back, though!"

Shawn nodded wisely, pointing at the lights. "Would you be able to turn the lights out in the ceiling if you did it now?"

The boy laughed, pointing at the game makers. They were currently eating a large beef roast, only a few actually watching us tributes running around the center. "If I made it powerful enough, we'd be able to send the whole building back to the Dark Days!"

Shawn nodded again, obviously impressed. I coughed and walked up to the two, nervously tugging at my arm. "Hey, Shawn. Who's this? I'm Mira, by the way."

The boy smiled, shaking my hand. I tried not to notice his bad teeth and smiled politely. "I'm Wyatt! We were just talking about Tesla coils. Are you Shawn's ally?"

Ally! The word ran through my veins like liquid gold, filling me with a light sensation. I had an ally! An ally! I hadn't thought that Shawn would take me, but he had, and now I was here, ready to help one of us win the Games. And I wouldn't be alone. With Shawn, I'd never had to be alone in the arena.

"Yeah, I'm his ally. Are you going to ally with us?"

"I think so, if Shawn lets me." Wyatt stared pointedly at Shawn, another grin on his face. I forced myself not to laugh. Even though Wyatt seemed blunt and to-the-point, and his voice seemed to get on my nerves, there was something about him that was earnest and honest. Wyatt wouldn't betray me if I allied with him.

"Why wouldn't I have you as an ally? Your skills are going to get us all out of here." Shawn slapped Wyatt on the back, causing him to cringe.

"Um, Shawn, how exactly are you going to get us all out of the Games alive?" I asked. How could he get us out, even if we refused to kill each other? The game makers would just kill us with our trackers or send mutts on us. And we would die, just as they wanted.

Shawn smiled, pointing at the Tesla coil. "It's simple. First, Wyatt's going to teach us how to use a Tesla coil. Then, we'll… "

Shawn's voice dropped to a whisper, and we both craned to hear him. "...use the coil to ruin our trackers. And if our trackers are off, _nothing_ can stop us."

 **Another chapter in the books! What did you think? Any alliances or enemies being made? What was the most striking moment in this chapter? Well, now we're officially into training! We'll get a few more of these and head into the private sessions, and then we'll really have some fun ;) Well, keep reading and reviewing! I'm excited to get through the training :D Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	23. Training II: Making Connections

**Bernard Hancock, 12, District 12 Male**

I picked up the sword gingerly, waving it back and forth through the air as the trainer waited patiently for me to get into the ring. I let out a small breath as I lifted it fully, the weight of the sword almost overpowering my arms. No matter, the thrill of battle would likely outweigh the weight of the sword. I'd probably be able to learn it easily as I fought. Why would they make us use this if it wasn't easy to learn how to use?

The trainer nodded and I charged at her, stumbling slightly as I swung my sword towards the woman. She dodged it easily and leaped behind me, causing me to stumble. I fell to my knee and sprang up, lifting my sword high above my head as I charged her. Just one hit… Just one was all it would take to win this. Gosh, why was it so hard to hold this sword?

The woman jumped in front of me and tapped me in the centre of my stomach, causing me to fall over backward. I collapsed into the mat, the sword crashing into the thick, red padding behind me. The woman nodded and helped me up, handing me the fallen sword as I got up to my feet. "That would be a win for myself. Would you like some tips on your performance?"

I nodded and grabbed my sword, letting the trainer direct it the way she wanted. "This isn't the right way to hold a sword. Hold it as if you would a baseball bat, with your dominant hand just under the hilt and the non-dominant right next to the pommel. Isn't it easier to hold now?"

I nodded and grinned, swinging it back and forth as the trainer watched me critically. "Any other tips, Miss?"

The trainer smiled, turning around. "Let me get a couple more swords so that you can test out different types. You never know which one you'll get in the arena."

I agreed, sitting down and holding the sword as the trainer left. Up, down, left, right, I moved the sword all around me. I stabbed it into air - and the boy from Eleven screamed shrilly, jumping away from the sword and trembling. I dropped the sword and sprang up, helping the boy up. "Are you okay?"

The boy nodded, still trembling from the near miss. "Ye-yeah, I'm good."

I grinned, shaking his hand and patting him on the back. "I'm Bernard! Sorry for almost killing you, by the way. What's your name?"

"Corneli… Cornelius."

I grinned and walked with Cornelius, pointing at the instructor walking back to us with more swords. "The trainer's going to show me how to use these. You wanna try?"

Cornelius nodded slowly, taking up a sword and swinging it around. The trainer nodded proudly, taking up one as well. "You seem to be a natural! Keep working, and we might have you two ready to become masters!"

Cornelius smiled at the praise and swung again, getting more confident with every stroke. "You know, maybe fighting in the games won't be so bad!"

I smiled, swinging my sword. "Maybe it won't after all!"

 **Hollister Cuero, 14, District 8 Female**

I dabbed some more paint onto the clothing, making the swirls fit in with the flowers like the floral prints that I was so accustomed to cutting out. It seemed to be working so far, but it looked nothing like what the factories produced for the rest of the districts. I wasn't going to be learning how to master the art of camouflage anytime soon. Only a fool, a genius, or someone who wasn't going into the Hunger Games themselves would be able to do that. I simply didn't have the time or patience to learn how to make it look like mud was smeared on my face!

I got up and put the paints and paintbrushes back onto their stations, making sure that they were positioned nicely. The heads of the factories never liked it if you left your station sloppy. That would only lead to a pay cut. And Da didn't like pay cuts.

I walked away from the station, watching the careers laugh as they tested out axes at different stations. The boy from Four seemed to have an affinity for them, throwing them into the target with ease, while the girl from Two struggled to even make it to the target. I watched her closely, studying her aim. She didn't seem as if she knew how to throw an ax. Well, I didn't either, but it was always good to find a weakness. And then I could exploit it…

I shook my head tightly, continuing to walk towards the other side of the room. Who was I kidding? I couldn't kill another person, even if I tried! My only hope was to run. Run, and never look back as the rest slaughtered one another.

I walked over to the obstacle course, stepping onto the first step and reaching for one of the pegs that lined the wall leading to the rest of the course. I grabbed the peg gingerly and held on, reaching for the next one. My arms weren't long enough. I started to swing my body, my feet brushing against the wooden, black-painted wall as I reached in vain for the next peg. Would it be enough?

My fingers brushed the peg and I lunged for it, my fingers snatching it and bending in vain as I tried to support my weight with the one hand. My fingers strained to hold on, but one by one, they slipped off, until I was falling, crashing into the padded floor. "Oof!"

My ally was at the bottom of the obstacle course, his eyes laughing in amusement as he helped me up. "You okay, Holly?"

I groaned, slowly getting up and dusting myself off. "I don't think I'm one of those people cut out for this agile stuff. Have you tried it?"

Hem lifted his elbow to show a dark purplish bruise on top of it, wincing as he moved it around. "I tried yesterday. It wasn't exactly the best decision I could have made here, you know?"

I laughed at Hem's exaggerated expression as he touched his elbow, and pointed towards the memory station. "I was thinking that we could go practice over there, you know? I think that it would be good for us Eights to learn more about plants than just how they look in clothes."

Hem laughed and walked along with me. "You know, the training center isn't what I thought it would be. The trainers seem to keep us all pretty calm!"

 **Isa James, 15, District 6 Female**

"Crap!" I dropped the stick and nursed my cut finger, sucking on it fiercely as I glared at the girl from Twelve. How was she so good at making a fire? She had only taken a few minutes to get sparks flying, and I had been sitting here for half an hour, trying to get the fire started! She must have coal dust in her veins to do something like that.

I got up and dropped the sticks haughtily, not paying attention to the instructor. If I hadn't been able to figure it out after thirty minutes, there must have been something wrong with the instructor or the sticks. The best thing to do would be to cut losses and fire them both. At least the game makers would have equipment that worked if they did so.

The sound of jovial fighting drifted my way, and I turned to see the careers sparring with trainers. They seemed strong enough, especially the ones from Four and One. I could see the spirit in each of them as they fought. They were definitely different than any of the other spineless tributes around here. They were… confident. And nothing was wrong with being confident! Honestly, the other tributes needed to learn how to associate with others. It wasn't like they'd die if they said something wrong!

Oh, wait. Oops.

I watched the careers for a bit longer, noting the ferocity of the girl from Two. She seemed like an interesting person. Well, I'd just have to get to know her when I joined the careers.

I walked over to the careers, standing in the way of the girl from Four. She stopped and gaped at me, her red hair gleaming against her pinched, pale face. I wrinkled my nose and looked away. She needed a face job if she won, that was for sure. I'd have to endure it when I joined her, that was for sure.

"What are you doing here, _outlier?_ " the boy from One spat, scowling fiercely at me. I laughed and picked up a dagger, tossing it back and forth between my hands. I breathed a silent sigh of relief when I managed to catch it and smirked at the rest of the careers, admiring the shock on their faces. "I'm here to join you, of course! Well, at least ask. If you don't want me, then I'll just find a better alliance and slaughter you all like that."

The girl from Two burst out laughing, slapping me on the back and trying to contain her tears of laughter. "I like this girl! She's fiery!"

The boy from One frowned at me, pointing at Tony working diligently on lifting weights. "Why don't you go back to your district, _Six_ , where you belong? We don't want you here!"

"Who says we don't want her, Luxx?" The girl from One stepped up and surrounded me protectively, her eyes flashing as she watched her district partner. I widened my eyes and grinned slightly, noting the tension between the two. As long as one of them wanted to go left, the other would go right just to spite them.

The girl from One shook my hand and gave me a quick squeeze, smirking through her makeup. "I'm Taffeta, by the way. You're Isa, right? I do pay attention to the papers, _unlike others here_."

The boy from Two reddened, scratching the back of his neck. "I guess I didn't pay attention to the papers."

Taffeta looked over at Luxx, her eyes flashing with laughter as she turned towards the angry career. She blew her nails and smiled, holding her hand close to her face. "I say we keep her. She deserves to be in the careers more than _some_ of us here!"

Luxx yelled in rage and leaped towards Taffeta, who gave a squeak of surprise and dodged him, reaching for a dagger in self-defense. The two launched themselves at one another, not caring about what would happen.

The trainers arrived quickly, already having started to run towards us as soon as Taffeta turned towards Luxx, and grabbed the two just as Luxx swung his blade towards Taffeta. "Do you two need to be separated or what?"

Luxx wrenched free of the trainer, losing his weapon in the process. He glared at Taffeta for one long second before he turned back to the trainer, his face a mask of his true emotions. "We're good! We just need to talk about a few decisions amongst ourselves. Isn't that right, Taffeta?"

 **Luxx Mortem, 18, District 1 Male**

I glared at Taffeta, who was too busy smirking at me about the fight to realize that the others were getting antsy. I turned to Keelan and smiled, hiding my true emotions like a mask. "So, do you want this prissy, weak, incapable outlier in the careers or not?"

Keelan frowned, scratching his ear as he did so. "I mean, I don't want to weaken our ranks by taking her. But if you guys really want to..."

Monique frowned slightly, looking at the girl. "Did you even see her reapings? She was an absolute mess up on that stage, you guys. I don't think that we should bring her into the careers. If we do, we're basically allowing cannon fodder to come and ask us to join."

"But this girl has spirit!" Zora exclaimed, pointing at Monique. "After all, I wouldn't expect the fodder from Eight to come up and just ask us to join. Anyone who's willing to do so shows that they're confident. Maybe a little too confident for our likings, but if you really don't like her, you can just kill her off in the bloodbath yourself, no harm done! I say we let her join."

"I agree." Ajax rubbed his hands together as he did so, picking at a small scab on his thumb. "I mean, bolstering our numbers is always a good thing. Why wouldn't you want her to join?"

Monique fumed as Keelan looked troubled, glancing back at the girl from Six. She smiled confidently and sat down, waiting for us to make a choice. "Umm, I guess…"

"Then I'll just quit." I watched the shock of the rest of the group with satisfaction, knowing that I had played my ace. "If you let this… _scum_ into the group, I'll just leave and make an alliance - against all of _you._ You wouldn't want me to hunt you down alongside the boy from Ten or the girl from Five, would you?"

Keelan, Ajax, and Zora looked at one another, troubled of the new move. Keelan was the first to speak, walking over to me and standing at my side as he did so. "Then I won't vote to let her in. We can't lose a trained fighter, can we?"

Ajax nodded, standing by me and avoiding Taffeta's glare. "I agree with Keelan. I'm sorry, but Luxx is too big of a loss right now to throw away for Isa."

Zora nodded confidently, unphased by their betrayal. "Then it's settled. We won't be accepting her."

She left to break the news to the girl, who fumed and grabbed a knife to throw into the target. It didn't hit, but it smashed into the wall with a fury that made me shiver. I shook my head and grinned, knowing that Taffeta would be thrown off by this betrayal of her friends. If only she actually bonded with them instead of throwing away the first meeting to greet her fans…

 **Paxton Webb, 13, District 9 Male**

I had made sure to work with Giovanna from the start of training, and now it was starting to pay off. Who knew that my gym teacher was able to use a spear? With her brawn, I'd be able to guide myself through the whole Games. And sweet, misguided, _moronic_ Giovanna would have no clue what would happen to her once I made it to the top two. Sure, she might find out that I was more dangerous than she thought in the bloodbath, but I would otherwise be good. All I had to do was keep my innocent role up. Not retorting to others when they annoyed me was much harder than I initially thought it would be. Ah well, it was all for a good cause: for me to get home as a victor.

I threw the knife at the target, making sure to aim directly below it. The knife went to the wall and bounced off, collapsing onto the floor. I scowled and grabbed another one, not bothering to pick it up. I didn't want to get hurt in training, after all. This was supposed to be where I could be safe!

Giovanna nodded sympathetically as I threw the next one into the wall, patting me on the back. "Don't worry, you'll soon get the hang of it. See how I aim it like that? I can't get it every time, but three times out of five is much better than one. You see? It does work!"

I smiled with my eyes while keeping my face quivering, the knife lodged right next to the spot I had been aiming for. It was easy to hide any progress I was making by aiming at different places. I didn't want to give anyone the idea that I was stronger than I really was.

I glanced up as I heard the trudging of footsteps coming towards us, ready to bring out the tears in case it was the careers who were nearing us. I had cried yesterday in the elevator when I went up with the pair from One, and the way Giovanna had comforted me had surely thrown off the pair. They had no idea how strong we were, how strong _I_ was. It was a pity that Giovanna didn't have the knowledge to hide her skills from the rest. If she was a bit more like me, then I would be able to win these Games easily. Then again, if she was a bit more like me, she wouldn't ally with the threat that I was. Best to keep her in her place for now.

It was the boy from Seven who approached us, smiling confidently and shaking Giovanna's hand. I noted his firm grip and put on a pouty expression, lowering my height and drawing a little closer to Giovanna. With the strength that he had, no doubt from lumberjack work, it was best to make him think that I was weak as well.

Giovanna nodded uncertainly as the boy shook her hand, confused about what he was doing. I almost scoffed at her ineptitude but kept a straight face, even letting a tear roll down my cheek. Come to think of it, I would be a good actor! Maybe that could be a hobby for me when I won. But before I let another one roll down, the boy spoke up, his cheeks flushing as he looked at the two of us. "Umm, our - our group is wondering if yo-you'd like to join us."

He bit the inside of his cheek, obviously embarrassed at the stutter that came out of his mouth. Giovanna nodded, looking down at me with a maternal gaze. Was she really that much of a teacher? I thought she had shown some personality on the train, but it seemed as if she was this perky, preppy person whenever a younger child was there. "I'd like to, but I have Pax to think of. I can't leave him all alone!"

The boy nodded, growing more confident as he kept going. "We'd be good with having Pax! Marshall just wants to make sure that we have a small, solid group. But I think that one young guy's okay!"

I bit back my laughter, smiling at him gratefully as Giovanna agreed. My act must have really worked for him to not acknowledge me other than as a young guy. If I had sold it to him, it was obvious that everyone else in Panem believed that I was a weakling. Well, it was more allies for me!

 _And the more allies I was able to find, the closer I would come to victory._

 **Ryker Underwood, 18, District 7 Male**

I smiled as I walked back to Marshall, Giovanna, and Paxton right behind me. It was good to have allies that I could trust in this game. It was the only way I would be able to get back to Sabrina. It was the only way that I would be able to become a victor. If not, the careers would likely chew me up and spit me out - but not before torturing me. There was a career last year who tortured her victims by tearing off their nails, one by one, before yanking out their hair. After satisfying herself, she'd slowly slit their neck and laugh as their cannon boomed. Bella almost cried when she got close to the finale, but the boy from Eight had thankfully managed to kill her off before winning the Games. That was the only time I had ever seen my twin cry for joy. No human being that cruel deserved to win. It was… _inhumane_.

Marshall nodded tersely as we walked up to him, looking at the two with a critical eye. He nodded slowly and shook both of their hands. "So you're allying with us?"

"Yes!" It was Pax who spoke up this time, giving a small smile. He didn't deserve to be tortured by a career. If I didn't win, I wanted him to win. Only the young and innocent deserved to win the Games. The rest of us didn't deserve to win if we killed the young. It was horrible, the things you had to do to win.

I shook my head and grabbed a dagger, slashing at a nearby dummy frantically. It didn't matter if I'd lose myself to get back home, I _needed_ to win the Games. If I didn't, I'd lose my family forever. I'd lose my future. And I didn't want to do that. I couldn't do that. No matter what, I'd win. I'd not only win for myself, but I would win for my family. I couldn't let them hear my cannon boom.

A fierce, pinching pain started to flare in my foot, and I clutched it in pain. There was… there was a _dagger_ stuck in my shoe!

I hissed in pain and clenched the foot tightly, red blood oozing out of the wound and colouring the top of the shoe crimson. "Ah! What happened?"

Pax looked up at me with wide, guilty eyes, biting his lip nervously and starting to sniffle. "I- I accidentally dropped it on your foot, Ryker. I'm so sorry? Is there anything I can do to help you?"

I winced, a throbbing sensation coming from my foot. "It's… it's okay. Could I get a medic?"

The trainers came running towards me quickly, scooping me up and carrying me towards the exit. But as I was carried, I could have sworn I saw a smirk cross Pax's face. It was almost as if… he was gloating.

No, he couldn't be. Anyone who had cried the way he did in his reapings could never be a threat. It was only an accident, after all. Was it?

It was.

 **Monique Rivera, 18, District 4 Female**

I walked away from the rest of the careers, not caring whether they wanted me to stay with them until the end of the day or not. The petty arguments, the annoying habits they all had, it was all getting to my nerves again.

I breathed deeply, trying to remain calm. I had needed to push my other side, the kinder side, away for now if I was going to win. I had no chance of winning if I stayed kind. But I wasn't able to be arrogant and brush off the rest of the tributes like the others had done. Even though I had agreed with Luxx to not let Isa in, I was still threatened by her. How could you not worry about a person who threatened to kill you if you didn't go her way?

I pulled up next to the spears, taking one in my hand and throwing it at the dummy hanging on the side of the wall. It always helped me to defuse when I unleashed that energy into training. It was what had gotten me into training, after all! A few more hits and I'd be ready to go back to the careers. It was probably best to get back to them and convince them that I wasn't defecting. From what I had seen, Luxx was paranoid.

"Why are you hitting my dummy?" The girl from Five stood right beside me, breathing heavily and trying to look fierce. I looked at her small frame with disregard, then noted the flash in her eyes. She had volunteered for the _Hunger Games_ , after all, without being from a career district. If anything, I had to make her think that I wasn't too much of a threat. It was probably best to take any target that I had off of my back. From what I had seen of the girl, she had been glaring at us with every chance that she could get. I needed to seem weak, even if I did volunteer. Maybe she would leave me alone if I did so.

"Sure!" I squeaked and yanked the spear out of the dummy. A whistling sound came towards me as I did so, and I instinctively jumped back as a mace thudded into the dummy. "What was that?"

The girl smirked at me, walking away as trainers came running towards us. "Consider yourself warned, scum."

I felt a shiver run up my back as the girl walked away, the trainers surrounding me. One of them took the spear out and picked up the mace, while another bent down next to me. "Are you okay, miss?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I replied breezily, ignoring the cold sweat forming on my back. I was going to have to be more careful around these people. It was the Hunger Games, after all. And I'd have to adapt right along with it. I wasn't going to let my guard down again.

 **Another chapter in the books! What did you think of these ones? Any interesting moments? I hope you enjoyed it, because we have the private sessions up next! Hooray! Also, I'm going to start asking you guys to check in with me at certain times in the story to see who's still active. If you're reading this, PM me with the word "** _ **Cheese**_ **", and tell me your favourite tribute as well. Thanks so much! And don't forget to review ;) ;) Until the private sessions, TheAmazingJAJ**


	24. A Series of Private Sessions

**Selena Arthtome, 27, Assistant Gamemaker**

She's worked on the final plans for the arena, and the plan for the tribute set-up around the cornucopia has just been finalized in time for the private sessions. Now she just has to wait until all twenty-four tributes have been shuttled through the centre in the next few hours, and they finalize her plans. Honestly, being a game maker was exhausting. She couldn't see any of her friends doing it; the job was too taxing on their social lives to be ideal for them. But there was something… appetizing about controlling the arena like a chessboard. There was power in a game maker's hands, a power that could make the difference between life and death. Perhaps that was why Hiram liked it so much. He loved control and the feeling of power that came with holding twenty-four lives in his hands. There was no escape from a game maker once they set their sights on a tribute.

"Sir, should we start the private sessions, or wait until the original time?" She waits for Hiram's response, resisting the urge to tap her pen against the clipboard. Hiram never liked it when a game maker succumbed to those little urges. That was the kind of thing that earned them a cup of coffee thrown into their face.

"Start them. We've no need of waiting any longer." She nods politely and starts the recording, listening to it beckon the District One Male into the room. Luxx Mortem wasn't the kind of person to ignore. They had seen his temper in the training center over the past two days.

Luxx walks into the room and doesn't bother to bow to the game maker, instead grabbing a bow and arrow and firing it at the targets. Selena's eyes perk up, watching the arrows thud into the target. He hasn't shown this skill in training, she had expected him to be more of a knifesman from his constant attempts at hitting the target. Surprises were good. It impressed the game makers more. Again and again, the arrows find the centre or close to it, and Luxx seems somewhat satisfied with his performance there as he drops the bow and arrow. She frowns as he leaves the station, looking at the discarded bow and arrow, but she'll let it slide for now. After all, he only has a few minutes left before his session ends.

Luxx runs over to the poisons and starts to mix a concoction together, soon finishing it and displaying the dark-reddish colour to the game makers. Selena smiles slightly as she sees the poison bubble, and she leans over to Hiram. "Should we send an avox?"

Hiram nods, almost gleefully, and Selena orders an avox to walk over to Luxx. He first seems confused as she stands in front of him but then realizes what the game makers expect him to do. He hesitates at first, holding the poison in his hands as he stares at the quivering avox, and Selena taps her foot impatiently as she stares at Luxx. He has thirty seconds left before his session ends. It would be rather disappointing if he fails to utilize his poison. They had had high hopes for him after she had gotten the full report on his history in One.

With seconds to spare, Luxx pours the poison into the avox's mouth, his hand trembling and splashing some onto her garments. The avox seems surprised at first, then collapses to the ground, a pool of red spilling out from her mouth. Selena nods tersely as Luxx is escorted out of the doors, and ignores what are obviously retching sounds coming out of the exit where he had just left through. He had still shown that he had the nerve to do so.

Next is Taffeta Paisley, and she struts in and winks at the game makers. Selena notes the guffaw of laughter from Hiram and marks down a few notes on her notepad. It took a lot to coax a smile out of Hiram, let alone a burst of laughter. Taffeta may have promise after all.

The private session goes downhill from there. Taffeta walks over to the knives and spends the rest of the session throwing them perfectly into the center of the targets and bending over into provocative positions that cause Selena to look away in embarrassment. She might have done better if half of the game makers this year were straight women, but her skills had failed to impress this year's majority, other than a few wolf-whistles from some of the male game makers. As she walks out, Selena shakes her head sadly. She had so much promise, and she had to throw it all away by just displaying that one skill. Her only hope was to be the only one to display knife skills, or to be the best at it by a mile. And judging by the performance Selena had just watched, that wasn't going to happen.

Ajax Hollis is the next to enter the room, smiling politely to the game makers before he launches himself at the rock wall. Selena watches in interest as he quickly scales it and rappels down before flipping off at the last five feet before the ground, earning a burst of applause from the game makers. And when he starts to spar two instructors with daggers in both of his hands, managing to get in a few slashes onto what would be fatal spots if they weren't covered in armor, she knows that he'll be tough to beat. Who knew that the shyest career would end up being one of the most lethal tributes?

It's Zora Stikander next, and Selena rubs her hands together in anticipation of her performance. Her session was easily one of the most anticipated ones of the night, especially after noting that the instructors from Two picked her despite her eye. The question is, will she live up to the hype?

Selena grins as she heads towards the knives, hoping that Zora would display the superb aim they all knew she had after watching her in training, but Zora instead turns around and moves to the camouflage station, of all of the stations! Selena watches in dismay as Zora quickly and adeptly paints her body with paint, stripping and blending in with the rest of the trees at the station as if she was one of them herself, but all Selena can see is the lost opportunity that Zora had to distinguish herself amongst the tributes. She had shown amazing levels of camouflage skills, but that was for _outliers,_ not _careers_!

Shawn Andersen is next to show up in the training center, and Selena realizes that she now understands why all of the tributes south of District Eight had all walked away from their private sessions with a five last year. It was more taxing than she had thought to watch twenty-four tributes display mediocre skills to them in order to be graded, especially when she realizes that she still has twenty more to go.

Shawn quickly hurries to the traps, nimbly tying together a snare and throwing a dummy towards it. Selena watches the snare start to crush the dummy's foot, a small spike that Shawn had the sense to tie onto the snare digging into the plastic, and she smiles. He has promise.

Shawn wastes no time to run to the fire station, scraping the flint and rocks together frantically as he waited for sparks to rain down onto the small pile of dry leaves and grass that he had piled under his attempt. As the seconds tick away, leaving the game makers to wait to see the outcome of this race against the clock, Shawn finally manages to get sparks, blowing gently on it and growing it into a merry little blaze just as the buzzer sounds. He walks out with a smile on his face, and Selena notes it down on her notepad. Shawn has promise.

Mira Bevoire walks in timidly as the voice summons her in, and adjusts that magician's hat that she's worn on her head for the past few days before walking to the daggers. She starts to throw some at the targets, a few sinking in while others bounce off and scurries out as the buzzer signals the end of her session. Selena nods and marks a few more notes down onto her clipboard, noting how she had been studiously working away at the daggers for the past day. She had definitely improved that skill through her training. Tributes who showed improvement in skills always were boosted a bit for their scores. It was how they had made the most of their time that _really_ counted, not a fancy display of nothing.

It's Keelan Spinnaker who's the next to show up, and he blows an airy kiss towards the game makers before he digs something out of his pocket. Is that… a coin?

Keelan flips the coin and nods as he sees the result, walking towards the spears and grabbing one before starting to stab a dummy with it. It's soon in shreds and he nods in satisfaction before he heads towards the instructors. He requests a battle and is soon fighting against the second best spearman in the building, comfortably holding his own without any significant moves to prove a loss or a win for either of them. He breaks away from the fight with two minutes to spare and spends the rest of the time throwing spears at the target, letting them sink into the target every time. He walks out as the buzzer sounds and smiles confidently, blowing one last kiss towards the game makers. Selena laughs at the confident career and scribbles a nine onto her notepad, knowing that he's one of the strongest ones here. The scores from the other game makers will surely balance his score out into a respectable number.

His district partner, Monique Rivera, is the next to appear, and Selena hears a few whispers about how her brother had shown his infamous attack on an instructor from beneath the water when he was a tribute. The instructor whom Craig had picked out for his display had promptly quit that night, and Craig received the only ten of the Games.

However, Monique seems to be focusing more on the tridents, grabbing one and shredding a dummy to pieces before throwing it at the targets, even dangling off of the stands for the dummies before throwing them with ease. It's an impressive feat, especially when she leaps to her feet and walks out nonchalantly, but it's not at a ten level. Selena needs to see something greater, something more _interesting_ than Monique's display to give someone a ten.

Wyatt Blink-Box runs into the room, starting at the memory station for plant identification before the counter even starts. It's a smart move, and the reason for his quick start is revealed as he races through all of the memory quizzes and starts on the plant samples to sort them into the poisonous and non-poisonous sections that the instructors had carefully set out. It pays off when he correctly gets them all before the timer runs out, and Wyatt giggles as he walks towards the exit. He's made the most of his session.

Ashrifah Keyaut doesn't bother to even acknowledge the game makers, walking confidently to the ax station. Selena tries not to snicker at Ashrifah's tiny figure as she holds the ax, but her face soon turns to surprise as Ashrifah launches the ax at the floor. It crashes, no, it _smashes_ into the floor, and Ashrifah wastes no time in grabbing another and launching it away from her. Over and over, the axes are all thrown into the floor, some cracking while others quiver as they stick into the soft surface of the floor, the training center soon looking like a demolition zone. As time runs out, Ashrifah picks a throwing knife, and throws it into the column behind her. It hits the cement and quivers before falling down to the floor, but Ashrifah's performance was too big for that one flaw to ruin it. It was absolute _chaos_ , and chaos brought ratings.

It takes ten extra minutes to clean up the training center and replace the axes for Tony Dongalls, but he doesn't seem to mind the wait as he walks into the training centre. He quickly grabs a few chemicals and drenches a dummy with them before getting flint and rocks, expertly flicking them together _just right_ in order to get sparks. The dummy ignites, and he turns towards the game makers as the melting heap of plastic collapses to the ground. "Could I have what you're having? Doug's hidden the alcohol."

Isa James walks in confidently, smirking at the game makers as she grabs a few knives and tosses them towards the targets. Some bury themselves into the target, one even making it into the bullseye, while others bounce off and crash onto the floor, but the _real_ highlight of her performance is when one of the game makers belches. Isa jumps, startled by the sound, and the knife in her hand flies out and _sinks_ into the arm of an avox. Isa runs towards the silently screaming servant and yanks the knife out, grabbing bandages from the medical station and wraps up the wound as it gushes blood onto the floor. She ties it tightly and helps the avox up, nervously talking as she walks out of the training center. "Is she okay? I didn't mean it, you know. A member of the District Six Community Watch would never try to hurt a public servant. Are you sure she's okay?"

Ryker Underwood is gracious when he walks in, shaking the hand of the instructor at the ax station before launching into his demonstration. He lands most of his axes into the target before chopping a dummy to shreds, doing it as impassively as he would a tree back in District Seven. As he throws his axes up into the air and catches them in boredom, waiting for the private session to finish, Selena takes the time to write down a few more notes. What was up with all of these tributes only displaying one skill?

As the trainers run to clean up a few more stations for the next tributes, Selena walks over to Hiram and displays her clipboard. "Is this suitable for the tribute arrangement in the bloodbath?"

Hiram looks over and his eyes widen, unable to help himself from looking interested. "Yes, yes, that'll be fine! But are you sure you want to place her so close to the exit? I say we put a career in her place and a few younger outliers, it'll create more… _drama_ as they scramble to get out."

Selena nods, scratching out a few names and replacing them with the ones that Hiram had recommended. It was a good plan that she had made. With any luck, it would result in a few interesting kills to hook the audience.

Aris Orchards is the next to walk in through the entrance, smiling before she heads to the throwing knives. Selena resists the urge to groan as Aris confidently displays her skills, smiling widely and laughing as she managed to sink her knives into the target three out of every five times she threw. Didn't she have any other skills she wanted to display? Selena scribbled down a five onto the paper, adding a few underlines to get across the point. If she had a sesterce for every time a tribute touched a knife, she'd have enough to pay rent for a month. If the next tribute decided to display a skill other than knives, Selena would give them a six, just for creativity.

Nehemiah Bunting thankfully decides to build a shelter, and Selena takes a celebratory sip of champagne as she watches the boy work diligently away at the shelter. He crawls under and requests for the game makers to have rain pour down onto the shelter, which they obliged. The sprinklers above the shelter rain down and a perfectly-dry Nehemiah crawls out of the shelter, displaying the tarp which he had caught some of the water with, before putting iodine in and waiting. His time runs out before he can declare the water pure, but he had made his point. Nehemiah's survival skills were more than enough to let him go far in the arena.

Hollister Cuero creeps into the room, avoiding the game makers' gazes as she grabs a mace, and starts to whack away at a dummy with it. She manages to make a few dents in the plastic before she drops it with a sigh of relief, racing towards the plant samples and sorting as many as she can into the sections. She ends the session with 78% of her choices correct, and she runs out of the room, thankful to be out of the eyes of the game makers. She seemed to hate being under the attention of anyone.

Paxton Webb is next, and he runs into the training center, smiling as he races right towards the slingshot station. Selena's eyes perk up as he readies his first shot, interested in the new weapon. If he was somewhat good with it, his creativity would definitely boost his scores.

But the boy's mastery over this new weapon is horrendous, with almost every shot going far and wide across the room, a few even failing to make it out of the sling itself. Avoxes automatically hide in corners, having learned from the Isa incident, and Paxton soon runs out of ammo as he fails to even make it past the first few feet towards the target that he had been aiming for the whole time. As the last seconds pass and the buzzer beeps, the boy falls into sobs, his eyes streaming with tears that splash onto the floor. When the buzzer beeps, the boy flees, his hiccuping sobs echoing throughout the training center. Selena cringes and scribbles down a score, biting her lip in pity. There was no way that he was surviving the bloodbath with that skill, if she could even call it that.

Giovanna Fillinfini seems more hopeful than her district partner did, bowing to the game makers and waiting a few seconds for them to ready themselves before launching into her private session. Selena notes the act of graciousness before she settles down to watch Giovanna, smiling as she settles down onto her chair. If it were up to her, tributes who acknowledged the game makers would always do better than their peers.

Giovanna starts quickly and grabs a few spears from their rack, throwing them at the targets in front of her and smiling as they thudded into the center. Nine of her ten shots hit the target, including a few bullseyes, and Giovanna pumps her fist with joy before leaving the training center. She knows that she has done well, and Selena notes her skill with the weapon. For a girl who had likely never touched a spear in her life, she had learned well during the few days that she had practiced.

Selena yawns slightly as Marshall Furr walks into the room, rubbing her eyes and taking another drink from her champagne glass. When it was up to her to make the scores along with the rest of the panel, it was surprisingly taxing. But after these last six tributes, she'd be done. And then she could climb into her nice, warm bed, and just fall asleep…

Selena pinches herself as Marshall grabs a bow and arrow, watching him climb up a pillar and seat himself comfortably. The instructors move closer towards him, ready to help in case he managed to fall off of the beam. But Marshall doesn't fall, nocking an arrow into the bow and aiming at the furthest dummies. He strikes them quickly, nocking the bow once more and shooting more as the time runs out. As he climbs down and bows to the game makers, Selena nods, impressed by the boy's skill with the bow. He'd be a force to be reckoned with in the arena.

Carol Farrier runs into the training centre, grabbing flint and rocks and rubbing them together furiously. As soon as she gets sparks, she bolts, leaving the leaves to smolder back into ash. She starts the memory quiz and focuses for the first few questions, but then frantically chooses ones, getting only 56% of the answers right before darting towards the throwing knives. She throws a few of them, thudding them into the sides of the target, before dancing away, running towards the rock wall. She stops her frantic race at the dummies, withdrawing the knife which she had stabbed into the arteries of the dummy as the buzzer beeps and bows deeply before running back out. Selena gapes, looking down at the twelve skills that Carol had decided to show tonight. She might not have shown any mastery over them, but she did move fast. But it wasn't speed the game makers were looking for. It was talent, and Carol had only displayed that in a few stations. The number of skills hadn't hidden the fact that she had displayed little talent for them to observe. And quantity was only a small factor in what Selena had factored into her choices for these scores.

It's Cornelius Fields who comes into the training center next, and he quickly gets to the rock wall and starts to climb it. It's apparent that he's able to swing around it with ease, and he goes around the rungs, not going up any higher than seven feet above the ground. Selena furrows her brow, watching Cornelius continue to swing around the rock wall before leaping off and running towards the trees next to the camouflage station. He was protecting himself from getting hurt in case he slipped and fell. Cornelius was being careful, and that was a trait that could help him go far. As he walked out of the training center at the end of his session, Selena marks a five on her paper. He might deserve something lower, but the fact that he was looking out for his own safety proved that he was taking the Games seriously. Cornelius wasn't going to fall for any traps the game makers would set out in the arena.

Pepper Maywell is the next to take on her private session, and Selena yawns widely as Pepper starts to throw knives. By now, the private sessions seemed to blur into one another. If they could miraculously be shortened for the last three tributes, Selena would die a happy woman.

Pepper finishes off the knives and then runs towards the fire. She works quickly at it, getting a blaze and growing it into something larger. She knew how to make a fire. Pepper had paid attention. Selena leans forward in interest as Pepper grabs a knife and held it inside of the fire, waiting before the steel turned slightly red to stab it into a dummy. The plastic hisses and melted as Pepper slices downwards, creating a long, jagged line. She smiles, happy with her work, before running and sorting through edible berries until the last few minutes fly away into the afternoon. She had made a mark on the game makers.

Bernard Hancock is the only person to use a sword in his private session, selecting a short sabre to slice into dummies. He quickly makes work of two of them before he battles a trainer, narrowly losing after he accidentally drops it onto the mat. After losing the first match, he opts to fight again, and the two do battle once more, with Bernard steadily more confident in his abilities as the battle continues. As the two defend and attack one another, rallying to defeat the other before the time runs out for his private session, the instructor makes a huge effort, his sheer strength knocking small Bernard to his feet. He scrambles back up and leaps backward, holding his sword defensively, and is about to charge when the buzzer rings. He smiles and shakes hands with the instructor before he leaves, skipping with joy out of the room. Selena nods and writes down a score onto her notepad, knowing that he had performed well. Bernard's skills had matured greatly since he had first picked one up.

Moon Kraków is the last person to enter the room, and Selena takes another sip of her wine as she watches Moon walk towards the stations. The game makers had slowly but surely started to lose interest since District Eight, and now only a few dedicated game makers stood at the edge of the room, watching Moon get ready to display her skills. The rest are busy eating the snacks provided, chatting about the earlier performances of the night. It was no wonder that District Twelve always received lower scores. No one paid attention to them by the time their sessions rolled around.

Moon starts off with traps, making a few snares and catching a few rubber mice that she tossed into them. But it's when she takes the hole in the middle of the room and lines it with sharpened twigs that game makers start to watch her with interest. She lines them up and stabs them into the ground quickly, making sure that they're all in place before grabbing a few thin twigs to line over the hole. She covers it with leaves and, if Selena looks close enough, she can just barely see the darkness underneath. Moon had made her trap well.

Moon ends the private session by working on the memory stations, correctly identifying birds and animals of the woods easily. It's a cow that she's about to identify when the private session ends, leaving her to stalk out of the room as if she had earned herself a twelve. Her skills weren't close to that level, but the traps had caught the game makers' attention. Moon would be one to watch if she survived the bloodbath.

It's with great pleasure that Selena takes all of the notes from the game makers, typing in their final scores for each tribute for Hiram to look over and finalize. She won't be watching the score reveals tonight. She'll be too busy sleeping, trying to recover from the afternoon. Private sessions were more stressful than she had imagined. If possible, she'd apply to just designing the arena and mutts next year. The role of the assistant game maker was just too tiring to do full time.

 **Another chapter is finally in the books! What did you think of these private sessions? Any apparent high or low scorers among the tributes? Will any tributes get an eleven? Or will any somehow score themselves a dreaded one? Let me know in a review! I'm so glad that I'm done the private sessions, they're as tiring as it is for Selena XD Remember to keep checking in! I've only gotten three, so I only know that three people are actually reading the story. It may influence the outcome of your tributes… And remember to stick in cheese and your favourite tribute into the pm! Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	25. Score Reveals: Do You Trust Me?

**Cornelia Fields, 13, District 11 'Male'**

I shudder as the television flickers on and our escort calls us over to watch the reapings, walking slowly over the woven mahogany carpet to sit down on the black leather couch. Pepper is already there, biting her lip and twisting her dark, curled hair. She's not looking forward to seeing her score tonight. Neither am I.

Our mentor smiles as we sit down together, putting her fingers together as if she's taking a photo. "Oh, you two are as pretty as a picture. You'll surely love the headshots I sent into the game makers."

I grimace at the reminder of the first night in the Capitol, where we had been forced to take photos with every possible face, position, and angle that our mentor could think of. The worst was where she had made me flex my arms, trying to make me look macho and tough. I hated every minute of the photo session. At least she wouldn't send in that photo where she had me simper for the camera as if I was grateful for the Capitol reaping me. I had looked horrendous in that one. At least our escort was nice. When I quietly wished for a necklace, she had confided in me and had me tell her my name, my t _rue_ name, not the one that my mentor and Pepper thought I had. Now it was hanging around my neck, and I quietly held the little doll that my parents had given me as the hosts appeared on the television. It was nice to smell the corn husks of the doll, hugging it closer as my judgment drew ever nearer. It reminded me of home. And all I wanted at the moment was home. I didn't want to stay in the Capitol any longer. It had been nice at the start, a place of interest, a place to explore and to find out the quirks and the fascinations of the people who lived here, but it had grown old, the place having become predictable and stale. I had wanted it to make me forget. Now it only reminded me that I was heading off to die.

"Oh, Cornelius, you're going to just love your profile picture! I chose the handsome one where you smile for the camera in that sweet little way of yours; the Capitol's just going to love you two little tributes! They always love the nice ones." Our mentor smiles at us, taking out the pictures and handing them to both of us. She _did_ use it.

Crap.

I groan slightly, tugging on the grey shirt that I had thrown on this morning. It was uncomfortable; it didn't feel like it belonged on my body. The Capitol seemed to have a lot of strange fashion statements. The fabric hugged at the bottom but was loose at the top, and a coarse fabric that made the grey shirt finished the monstrosity off. At least it felt feminine.

Pepper whispers something to herself as a burst of applause comes from out of the window, and I peer down, all the way to the bottom of the tribute tower, to see tens of _thousands_ of Capitolites madly cheering for the hosts on what seemed to be a large screen on the bottom of the tower. How could they take this so lightly? Was it because they were looking forward to finding someone to sponsor? Did they relish in the good scores? Or did they feed off of the disappointment for the bad ones? Why couldn't they be simpler? Why did they have to be so _extravagant?_

"Cornelia!" my escort says, jolting me back from the window. "Were you not listening to a single word that I said?"

I shake my head slowly, running my hands through my thick hair. I had spaced out again. Pepper glances over and gives the escort a strange glance before going back to the television, moving closer towards me. I smile as she grasps my hand and hold hers tightly, trying to pay attention once more to the hosts.

The hosts smile on the screen, the high definition letting us examine every pixel of the television with clarity. The television back at home was small and grainy, the screen scuffed slightly and the pictures usually flickering off during the middle of a broadcast before snapping on again. But it had been _ours_ , it had been _mine_ , and I wouldn't have traded it for anything else. I wouldn't trade a piece of my home for something foreign.

And as the two women on screen start to open the first envelope, I quietly slip off of the couch and sniffle to myself in the corner. The others can't see me cry here. They won't see me here when I hide next to the window and dream of my home.

I'd give anything for my small room. I'd give anything to hug my brother again. I'd even kill to just hug my parents again.

 _I just want to go home…_

 **Zora Stikander, 16, District 2 Female**

"And for our lovely Luxx Mortem, a score of eight was rewarded!"

Ajax claps for Luxx, smiling as he sits closer to Caleb. "What was your score when you were a tribute, Caleb?"

Caleb laughs, a long throaty laugh that echoes throughout the room. It's a nice laugh. "I got a ten. Lavinia and Carameuse were mighty excited over that one; especially when Carolyn's eleven followed right after it. Are they just as happy as ever?"

I look at the two women, both excitedly bouncing on their heels as they celebrate the opening of the first score. "Don't worry, Caleb, they're just as energetic as I've seen them be. I remember watching them in your games. They sure got excited when it came down to the final three and Carolyn was killed by the little girl from Twelve. What was her name again? Olivia?"

"And to Taffeta Paisley, a score of eight as well!"

"Olive." Caleb stiffens up and looks away from me with those blank eyes of his as he whispers the name, and I absentmindedly touch my own eyes. It had been a tough finale for him. He'd been stabbed in the eye by his own district partner after wrenching out that knife which had stayed in his thigh for days, and just barely survived due to the little girl from Twelve launching herself right at his partner. Carolyn had been knocked to the ground from the top of the cornucopia and broke her neck, her vitals collapsing into death as soon as she hit the stones of the ground. But when Caleb jumped onto that beast who had killed the girl from Twelve and then fell off of the cliff to the side of the cornucopia, I could hear Two go silent. For a second, just for a second, we had all thought that we had lost our victor. But he had survived long enough for the crew to pick him up and take him back to the Capitol, and I still remember the way the crowd outside of my home had roared. They had all screamed for joy to see their third victor come home. It had been almost too good to be true, but the train rides home had solidified it. When Caleb had brushed by me as he walked towards the station, I thought that I could have never been happier.

His brother had died soon after; a nasty fall from the cliffs to the side of town. Funny, it was close to the way Caleb had fallen. Strange how fate worked out.

"And to Ajax Hollis, oh my, Carameuse, a _ten_ was given!"

Ajax flushes fiercely as Caleb attempted to pat him on the back, missing and settling for a satisfied roar of laughter. "Thank you, I… I tried."

I smile, nodding towards Ajax and waiting for Carameuse to announce my score. Ajax, for all of his uncertainty and the drama surrounding the fact that he had been the third pick for District Two, was one of the best fighters in the district. I knew from experience that he deserved that score. It was _he_ who had to realize it. But I could only sit back and wait for him to figure it out on his own. It wouldn't do for me to point him in the right direction at the cost of my own life. I'd stay back and operate from afar.

Lavinia gasps on screen, causing a murmur from Natalia. She's busy eating ice cream, a delicious caramel ice cream that just _whispers_ sugar, that an avox had served to her, watching out of the window and humming quietly to herself. Natalia was strange. Some moments she was the light of our group, forever letting that beautiful laugh of hers ring, but other times she was brittle, prickly, pushing Ajax and I away if we asked for anything. Perhaps it had been her arena. Natalia's arena was still spoken of in muttered whispers by the people of Two.

"And to Zora Stikander,"

I lean forward in my chair, holding my breath in anticipation.

"A score of…"

Ajax looks up at the screen, his eyes lighting up with the fact that I could score as high as him. He's such a kind guy.

"Oh my,"

A nine? A ten? Panem forbid, an _eleven_?

"A seven!"

I sit down in shock, my hands falling to my sides as I gape at the surprised hosts. Why? Why didn't I get the nine I deserved? I had shown them my skills, I had done everything that they could want. I had given them my best, and they had spat it out and given it a seven. A seven! Even outliers scored that routinely!

Ajax is crestfallen as he turns to me, holding out his hand. "What happened in your private session? Did you sass them off?"

I shrug miserably, watching the screen as the hosts move on. "I did my camouflage for them. Why wouldn't they want that? I showed them that I could _disappear_ , Ajax! Disappear!" A strain of anger that I can't keep away comes into my voice. I can't control my emotions when the game makers disregarded talent for _brutality_.

Caleb nods slowly, squeezing my hand as he stares into space with the blank stare of his. I can't decide, even after watching it dozens of times, if it's the most unnerving or fascinating thing that I've ever seen. "The game makers don't want you to disappear, Zora. They want you to _shine_. And after the bloodbath, we're going to make sure you do just that."

 **Shawn Andersen, 14, District 3 Male**

I rub my hands together in anticipation, watching the television flash and the two hosts talk excitedly to one another over how the newest tidbit that President Ember had just handed the Capitol about the arena could mean that the arena was a meadow. I shudder to think that we could be trapped in a field of poisonous flowers, having to watch our step in order to make sure that we wouldn't fall into one of those traps that the game makers would so diligently set up for us to fall in. To _die_ in.

But we weren't going to die. My contact in the Capitol had already promised that to me. With Mira and Wyatt in hand, we would be able to escape whatever the arena threw at us. And when the dawn of the third day rose and the contact rigged the arena to do whatever they had promised us to give a disturbance, we'd use the chance to rig up the tesla coil that Wyatt would make. And once we destroyed our trackers, we could escape the arena. We could go _home_!

Mother and Father had always told me to hope for the best and expect the worst, lessons learned from their days as rebels in Three. I only knew too well what had happened to my grandmother; killed by a Capitolite bullet and left to bleed out onto the kitchen floor. She had been dead by the time my mother had reached her. From then on, Mother said that she became a realist. What was the point in hoping, no, in _believing_ that their latest efforts would help to free Panem? But they could help change it, change it for the better, and one day, we could go free. We'd never have to send the lambs of the districts off to slaughter again.

At least that's what my parents had always preached to me. But what was wrong with re-using words when they were so true?

"And to Shawn Andersen, a score of five has been awarded!"

Kaitlynn nods proudly and pats me on the back, pointing at the screen as she settles back down into her chair. "It's a score to be proud of. I only got a four, after all. The game makers didn't like it when I decided that I wanted to destroy the rock walls for my private session."

I shudder to think of the destruction that Kaitlynn had done to her arena, remembering the roar of the beasts as Kaitlynn's nets and traps had ensnared them. The ocean that they had been put into was only child's play for her. Because when a Three stepped into the arena and survived the bloodbath, the games were theirs. It was a pity that we usually fell so quickly. We could do so much more if we didn't have that nasty habit of being among the first eight to die.

"Meanwhile, our darling Mira Bevoire has gotten herself a five as well!"

Mira perks up at the score, smiling and standing up to hug me impulsively. It's only a quick one, and she sits down afterward as if she was embarrassed to do so, but I can still feel the heat of her embrace as I settle back into the brown leather chair that I've positioned myself in.

The Capitolites seem to smile once more as they move onto the pair from Four, excitedly chattering about how they had came close to victory last year. But could you really call anyone close to victory when even the victors themselves couldn't believe that they survived themselves?

Mira perks up as Kaitlynn grins at her, adjusting that hat of hers. It had tilted dangerously to the point of almost falling off when she had seen her score, but she had made sure to put it back in its place. It looked rather nice on her head. It seemed to complete her.

 _Don't get sentimental, Shawn. You have to stay strong to get them out. You can't give into weakness if you want the rebellion to survive._

Carameuse and Lavinia dance together in the spirit of the sailors from Four, and Kaitlynn can't help herself from laughing in that awkward way of hers as the two inevitably collide and fall onto the floor. "Oh, oh, those two are a breath of fresh air every year."

I nod silently, watching the women laugh as they get back up and settle themselves back onto their fallen chairs, Carameuse taking pains to fix her lavender dress and Lavinia adjusting her necklace. They were interesting. They could almost make one forget that they were about to head into the fight of their lives.

Mira seems to bite her lip and stare at the floor, and I watch the crestfallen teen. It's strange to think that I'm younger than most of the other tributes; I feel ages older than them all with all the information I bear. They would likely be astonished to know that I had read documents from before the Dark Days, from a time period where even Panem, for all of its airs and graces and pretenses of immortality, didn't even exist. They were only papers, mind you, but the fact that I had read something that had outlasted even King Panem himself was almost impossible to think of.

But I couldn't forget my youth. It was the only thing that had brought me into the games and, if I was careful and quick enough, it would be the thing to help me escape. Only a fourteen-year-old rebel had the chance to convince the Capitol that he wasn't a rebel. And when I escaped, I'd be able to set fire to this world of lights. And I'd never have to think of the Hunger Games again.

 **Ashrifah Kayeut, 16, District 5 Female**

I breathe deeply as the lights dim and the women on the screen keep on talking, saying something rather idiotic about how District Four's burial ceremonies had brought the Capitol to have to search through waters for the embalmed bodies clogging up the oceans. I shudder at the thought, resisting the urge to gag. How could you send a rotting corpse into the place where you swam? I'd never swim in their waters. The other districts were strange indeed.

Wyatt smiles to himself and plays with a stupid wire which he managed to snatch from Rosanna, twisting it into a strange pattern. I bristle and turn away from the smart aleck, watching the Capitolites open up the next envelope. I think that Rosanna had told me their names before, but who really cared? It wasn't as if I was stuck meeting them. I was just stuck watching the fanciful duo. Who in their right minds would dance on live television?

Capitolites would. At least District Five was quiet. Cunning, sure, deceitful, certainly, but never flamboyant. And it was good that way. I never had to worry about running into a wig the length of my torso.

"And to the handsome Keelan Spinnaker, oh my, a ten!"

Rosanna pats Wyatt on the back, pointing at a slight bend in the wire. Of course, she'd notice a little detail like that. Rosanna seemed to only think about symmetry and grace. She needed something to shake it up, some excitement, some _battle_ to shake up her otherwise dull life. She had had it easy. We had all watched her pick up her knife and stab the boy from One in the heart, collapsing onto the ground of the small glen they had been placed in as the Capitolites roared in delight from the other sides of the arena. She had spent less than a day in the arena. Only 17 hours! They had put up a barrier, a forcefield to keep the curious Capitolites out of the arena, but it meant nothing as the Capitolites roared for the girl who had won the Hunger Games. They had adored their little victor as she was carried out of the arena and into the medical centres.

I want to hear the crowd roar my name when I stepped onto the stage with my best dress on and blood still under my nails. I want to win, to win the Hunger Games, for the glory, for the beauty of the sport. Who wouldn't want to win Panem's greatest sport? Who wouldn't want to master Panem's most masterful art?

"And for Monique Rivera, the strong sister of one of our victors, _Craig Rivera_ , a nine!"

I nod sullenly, watching the pinched face of the girl from Four appear onto the screen. She was an idiot. She should have known to stay out of my way; everyone should have known to stay out of my way, but she had touched my dummy. She deserved to be maced in the arena. I didn't like girls like her. They always hid something under that mournful expression. Monique had more going for her than just her brother. I'd have to take her out in the bloodbath. I couldn't leave a threat in the games when they likely could take myself out. I didn't need to make any stupid mistakes in the arena. I couldn't be like those pompous careers, always putting themselves first and thinking that they were coming home with the victory. How foolish they were. Their bravado and confidence would blind them from seeing any outlier from taking the crown. There had been only six career victories in the history of the games, and for good reason. They never saw the underdog coming to stab them in the back until it was too late.

Wyatt claps as the women keep on talking about the graces of Five, pointing out our choosing system and even bringing out little judge robes - what were those things called? - to pretend to be in one. I scoff and Rosanna snickers at the comical sight, turning towards me. "Ah, Carameuse and Lavinia know how to have fun. They can always make the score reveals a breath of fresh air."

I wait as the women _finally_ finish mocking Five and get to revealing the scores, taking a dramatic amount of time to reach for Wyatt's envelope and open it slowly.

"And for Wyatt Blink-Box, a four!"

Lavinia makes a scene when she falls off of her chair in excitement, causing Carameuse to cry tears of laughter for the next few minutes, but they finally get around to actually opening the envelope by the time Lavinia manages to seat herself once more. It's finally my time. I can finally see how I performed.

Oh, I do hope they liked brutality over grace.

"And to the fierce Ashrifah Keyaut, a score of - my goodness, Carameuse, would you look at that - nine!"

I roar with delight, jumping up from my seat and dancing around the room with a gleeful abandon that shocks our escort. A nine! A nine! A nine! That's better than most of the careers! I'm one of the top scorers this year! There's no way they can ignore me now, I'm simply too strong of a tribute for the careers - and the Capitol to overlook. I could go home. I could win the Hunger Games!

And as Lavinia and Carameuse talk excitedly about how my score had been a record-setter for Five, I close my eyes and dream of blood-soaked crowns.

 **Tony Dongalls, 17, District 6 Male**

I've noticed that Doug's hands shake whenever he goes off of the morphling he's been so desperately trying to stay away from. They're trembling violently right now, enough to slosh some of the water in the cup that he's holding in his hand onto his black pants. He doesn't even bother to get a cloth for the mess, just sitting silently and watching the women presenting the score reveals tonight, Flowe had said that they were Carameuse and Lavinia, who were currently giggling at the pictures of Six that they had managed to find. I grimaced as they started to show the viewers the family photographs that they had managed to dig up in Six, Lavinia barely managing to keep a straight face as she displayed the solemn face of the little child in her mother's arms.

Didn't they know that those photos were our _culture_? Didn't the Capitol realize that those photos were for memories of the past, ones that parents from Six clutched to their sides whenever their little ones grew up? Idiots. They couldn't even realize that they were offending an entire district. Sometimes, no matter their intentions, Capitolites just _begged_ for rebellion.

Everyone in District Six took family photos together. Nobody knew exactly why it happened, why we had all silently agreed generations ago to set aside one day a year for your family to walk over to a photographer's office and get your picture taken, but we all got dolled up for them and hung them carefully on the wall, looking fondly on those days where you were young and innocent. Maybe it satisfied our longing for youth, or maybe it nurtured our memories, but the reason for it didn't matter. No family in Six could be _complete_ before hanging up that first picture of the blushing bride and groom on their walls.

The nineteen photos that my family boasted in our hallway were still hanging on our faded yellow walls, showing our little family growing older and wiser; older and stronger; older and less innocent. I had helped Dad put them up in our hallway instead of the living room a fit of boredom last year, hammering the nails into the wall and straightening the pictures so that they were just right. Akira had liked that.

I grimace as I realize that you can track my fall into alcoholism, from the happy little man I was at twelve to the slouching, dark-eyed man I was now, just by looking at the wall. Even when I had masked my emotions for the camera, pretended as if I wasn't itching for another bottle, you could still see the thirst for it in my eyes. Perhaps that was why Akira was always trying to get me to stop. I couldn't go back. I'd never be able to go back to the boy I once was. I had matured, for better or worse, and now I was here in the Hunger Games, ready to fight to the death.

But would my past let me win or destroy me?

"And for Tony Douglass, a five!"

Doug nods and shakes my hand, not focusing on the laughing Carameuse and Lavinia. "You did well for a Six. Sponsors notice kids from our districts who show off a better score than their compatriots. You just might stand a chance, son. If you're able to do something other than screwing up in your interview, you just might."

He breaks into a coughing fit, causing the comfortably seated Isa to wrinkle her nose in disgust and move away from him. The girl can be such a snob sometimes, always putting on airs and going on about her District Six Community Watch. But even though she hadn't managed to get into the careers, she had still manged to get close. I had watched the whole confrontation myself, noting the hatred in the One boy's eyes and how the girl from Two had almost seemed to despair when Isa left. Someway, somehow, the princess from Six could stand a chance at getting allies. But it wouldn't be from me. I knew all too well about how intolerable she was, especially when you were thirsting for a drink. I frown at the screen and wait for her score to show up, running my hands through my hair. Carameuse starts to drum on the table that they're on as Lavinia opens the envelope slowly, and she blurts out the score before Carameuse has a chance to snatch it from her.

"Isa James, the lovely girl, received a four!"

Isa nods sullenly, refusing to meet my eyes as she keeps watching the screen. She's disappointed in her score. She doesn't like the fact that I out-performed her, that an alcoholic who should be inferior to her, the rich girl from Six, in every way, somehow managed to beat her score. What did she ever do to get that four? Stab one of the trainers?

Flowe claps her hands together in delight as she turns towards us, pointing at the screen. "You've done well! Oh, I'm sure that the sponsors will be interested in you two when you've managed to pull off those scores. We might have a reasonable amount of money to spend on you two tributes this year!"

But as she turns away from both of us, I note a hint of worry hidden behind Flowe's mask of joy.

 **Aris Orchards, 16, District 7 Female**

I smile as Lavinia starts to sing the Lumberjack's Song of District Seven for the camera, inserting just the right amount of hilarity and gruffness to make the song perfect. Ryker was tearing up with laughter beside me, the scores forgotten for now. That was our home. That was all we ever knew for music; just the Lumberjack's Song and other ballads to drift us children off to sleep when we were young. It was only when a child became older in Seven when they realized the true version of the song, laughing as they discovered that the true lyrics were much more peppered with epithets that they had originally thought. But it was a sweet song, one that I had always sung riotously with my father as we worked together to skin the meat and prepare it for customers, and Char had always howled along whenever we sang it. Sometimes Mother joined in as well, her sweet voice mingling in with our flat tones and elevating our efforts to what we could confidently call music. The songs of District Seven were among my fondest memories. They had helped _make_ my memories.

I wish that Mother was here now.

"And for Ryker Underwood, a respectable score of six!"

Ryker seems confused by his score, scratching his head and looking back at Joe. "But I… weird. I thought that talent would earn me at least a seven. I showed my skills with the ax, after all. Wouldn't that be enough? Isn't that what you did, Joe?"

Joe shakes his head with sorrow, looking up at the bubbly Lavinia and Carameuse. "When I did my private sessions, I just chopped down a dummy and threw my ax into the side of the wall. It was nothing special, but they knew my background. I got a seven for my efforts. From the looks of it, the game makers have been lowering the scores a bit. You see the girl from Two? You can't look at me to my face and say that she didn't deserve something higher from a seven. They're either disappointed in what you guys are showing or just tired of the same old thing. Anyone who spices it up will surprise themselves with how well they do this year, from the looks of it."

I nod as Carameuse flicks a piece of popcorn at Lavinia before dissolving into laughter, clutching at the side of the wooden desk to regain control before reaching for the next envelope. "I threw knives. In hindsight, that might not have have been the smartest decision that I could have made."

I laugh at the absurdity of the affair, still covering my face and trying to become solemn once more as Lavinia purses her lips and draws out my score. I do hope it's something respectable. I don't want a five. And if I do manage a six, I'd be able to separate myself from Ryker's shadow. I'd not be his mirror, I'd be his equal, and I'd be able to soak up as much spotlight as he had gotten over the course of the games. The roses thrown onto our horses were never for me; the ones I had caught had only been meant for Ryker. He was, well, _Ryker_ , the nice and strong guy from Seven who everyone liked, and I was just, well, _me_.

"And for Aris Orchards, a five!"

Fuck.

Joe nods once more, patting a blissfully eating Maddie on the back. "Told you I was right. You guys needed to show more to them, not just what you can do every day. I'm sorry, but it's true. Wait, what is on me?"

He directs the last comment to Maddie, who has dumped a plate of what Maddie called jello onto him. "Ugh! It's disgusting!"

Maddie starts to burst into peals of laughter, and an initially sullen Joe joins her as Carameuse announces the next score.

"For the lovely Nehemiah Bunting, a six!"

Ryker spits out the water that he's been drinking, the liquid splattering onto the carpet below him. "How did _he_ manage to get a six? How did the guy do it? He didn't touch a weapon in training! Not one! How on earth did the game makers think that he would be as strong as me?"

I resist the urge to laugh at the crestfallen Ryker, knowing that most of our hopes for the training scores had collapsed and flew away into the air like dust on the wind. No one sponsored tributes who got sixes. They sponsored eights, sevens at most unless the person was hot, and I was by no means at the standard of the Capitolites. But that was probably a good thing. We all heard what happened to the victors after they won. You could see it in Joe's face when he let his guard down, a certain pain at being used the way he had been. But he always seemed to recover. Victors were strong.

Maddie smiled at the hopeful expression on the boy from Eight's face, looking into his kind eyes. I watched his headshot as well, noting the hope that seemed to emit from his face. He seemed to be a pretty nice guy. He didn't really deserve to be here. None of us did.

Except maybe the girl from Five. She was creepy for all of her five feet and two inches.

 **Giovanna Fillinfini, 18, District 9 Female**

I watch the television with veiled eyes, concealing my weariness from the rest of the group. I hadn't slept the night before, slipping out of the tower and into the city. The peacekeepers only noticed the stone skidding across the courtyard outside, not the shadow that slipped into the city and beyond. And it had been wonderful.

I didn't run away from the tribute tower; I was too smart to do that. Anyone who dared to escape was instantly punished and likely deprived of sponsor gifts, forced to go it alone in the arena. The one big standout had been Konnor Smithers, the boy from Twelve in the 14th Games who had escaped from the interviews, but the newspapers had published that a loyal taxi driver had caught him and taken him back to the Games. He had survived for a while in the arena, even managing to get a few sponsor gifts due to the interest and controversy surrounding him, but he had died in the end. The Capitol could never bear to let a traitor like Smithers into the finale. He was too much of a loose cannon.

I had spent my time in a small gym near the tribute center, paying a few sesterces that I had snuck off of the counter and just playing sports with other Capitolites. They didn't know me - I had put one of the more modest wigs of Wendola's before going into the Capitol - and I didn't know them. We had played dodgeball, throwing the balls around the gym in an effort to win. It had been therapeutic to smack them in their faces, letting out my stress and my worry and my fear about the games and about injuries and about _dying_ by focusing it into the sport. I hadn't won, they had realized that I was a threat and had ganged up on me to make sure that I wouldn't win, but I left with a smile on my face just the same. It had been wonderful to not feels eyes on me anymore. I had gotten to disappear.

"And for Paxton Webb, a two!"

Pax's face crumples in the light of the lamps that Wendola had set up, and Falcon reaches out to comfort him. "You okay, buddy? Need some time alone? It's alright to cry if you're disappointed. The private sessions don't mean much for the Games anyway. Unless you directly strike on something they're looking for, they'll just give you a random score. It doesn't influence the games other than paint targets."

Falcon suddenly shivers, clutching his arms together and his teeth clattering together. Oh, of course, his arena had been the year where the Capitol had tried a winter arena. Oh, it had chilled my bones to see Falcon's recording of the Games. He had won after four long days, only surviving because the careers in his arena had toppled into the icy waters of the arena while he had drifted to the other side of it on an iceberg and huddled in a small ball to stay warm. It had been a miracle that there hadn't been any long-term effects. I could never survive that kind of cold when I was used to the golden warmth of the sun in Nine.

I hug Pax to me, letting him sob quietly into my side. I couldn't just let him cry on his own. He was just a poor little boy who had gotten reaped, and I was a girl who had almost made it through her last year of reapings. Almost.

Carameuse claps her hands together and brings out my envelope, waving it around for the world to see. I hear a burst of applause from outside of the building and peer outside in astonishment to see a crowd of Capitolites cheering on the announcers. What were they all doing down there? Was it like the interviews for them? Was every score something to be obsessed over, to cheer for, to boo for?

I look even further and see strange red booths which people are filing in and out of like animals. Oh. They're placing sponsor money on us all. The score reveals are just helping them all to place their bets even more.

 _Why were we doomed to be treated like less than nothing, only good for betting on and cheering for when one of came out of the arena, dripping in blood, sweat, and tears?_

Lavinia snatches the envelope and giggles as she tears it open, causing Carameuse to rip away a ruby on Lavinia's dress as she grabs the envelope back to announce my score.

"Giovanna Fillinfini has walked away with a six!"

Falcon nods seriously, looking down at a few notes that he had taken before shaking my hand firmly. "That's a good score, Giovanna. One to be proud of. The sponsors will like that indeed. We can work with this score. Who did you say you've been allying with again?"

"Pax, Marshall, and Ryker," I grin, pushing my hair back and watching the announcers cheer excitedly as they get the envelopes for Ten. A small, selfless side of me is telling me to comfort Pax, but I can afford a few minutes of celebration. I only have so many left.

 **Carol Farrier, 13, District 10 Female**

Egan was probably laughing to the rest of the family right now, not paying attention to how Mom and Dad were fixated on the television. Bless his heart, he was the only one blinded to the fact that his big sister was heading off to die. And that was a good thing. I didn't want him to cry. I just wanted him to smile that sweet, happy smile of his whenever you gave him something to do, to help with. But I couldn't when I was stuck in this tower. I was used to crawling into bed at this point, not watching the television with an anxious gaze that just seemed to whisper to me that I was going to die and that I would never get to help Dad again.

 _I don't want to die. I don't want to die. I don't want to die._

But I keep watching the screen, remaining in the same position that I'd been during the entire score reveals. I didn't mind sitting still for a while. It was relaxing to not have to worry about helping my mother with the dishes, not to have to darn any more holes in the socks of my brothers, not to have to go to school and try to recite the multiplication tables to my tables.

But I wanted it all back.

The women on the television continue to coo at the tiny yellow chicks in their arms, stroking their fuzzy feathers and whispering sweet nothings into their sides. They'd likely faint if they knew that I grew chickens in our house to butcher when they were big enough. Capitolites had no backbone when it came to the blood of animals. It was rather strange to see that the same Capitolite who cried at the slaughtered bull would watch impassively, even cheer when one of us would die in the arena. Capitolites never seemed to realize that we were any different than the animals we killed and prepared for them. No, they did view us as different. They viewed us as entertainment.

The women on screen keep petting the little chicks, causing an annoyed murmur from Marshall. He had no patience when it came to his own score. After being handed everything on a silver platter, all of his life, why would he expect anything different for his own score? Why wouldn't he get the coveted eight that I knew he was lusting for? Because if he did anything close to what he said he could do, it'd be nothing to convince the game makers. He had no idea what it was like to fight for everything, to sleep on the streets because his house wasn't the one being protected from the wild flames of the pastures. He knew _nothing_ about survival, nothing except a few half-whispered tips from his grandfather. All in our town knew that Marshall's grandfather had acquired his wealth through surviving a wildfire, managing to escape the flames to the cattle that he had been watching with the only other claim to the fortune vanishing into the flames. But he wouldn't have taught Marshall anything.

"For the lovely Marshall Furr, an eight!"

Marshall whoops and throws his hands up into the air as his score flashes onto the screen, smiling and patting me on the back. "Oh, we could win, Carol! We could come home!"

Our mentor smiles and ruffles his hair, starting to say something about how the score would most certainly attract sponsors to Marshall and, by association, me. Even though I wasn't part of his alliance, Marshall was still helping me. But it wouldn't last long. Capitolites were fickle from what I had observed, and any other score close to his from the other districts could just as easily supersede him. But he could celebrate for now. I could hear the crowd outside of the building cheering for him.  
As the crowd fades down and settles back into their seats, Marshall settles himself down as well and smiles. I can tell that he's genuinely happy this time around. For most of the training days and nights, he had only faked his emotions to the rest of us, acting surprised when he had known that the private sessions were that day and seeming attentive when his thoughts were elsewhere. But there was true happiness shining through his eyes, and I can't help but smile.

Our mentor pauses her monologue and looks over at me pitifully, stroking my hair with care and starting to start back up again about how I could still win. I wasn't getting anything close to Marshall's score. I wasn't going to do well in the private sessions, and even Marshall's popularity would fall soon enough. I wasn't getting any attention anytime soon, even if I deserved it.

Ah, it was all nothing compared to death. Not even the richest of kings could survive the hand of death when it decided that it was your time. Mom always muttered a phrase to herself when she was tired of the world in general. "Mundus vult decipi, ergo decipiatur," she would whisper, and she would whistle cheerfully and whisk Egon away from whatever was cooking on the stove. She told me that it meant that the world wanted to be deceived.

"And for Carol Farrier, a three has been earned!"

And deceived it could remain.

 **Pepper Maywell, 16, District 11 Female**

I watch the television blare in our room, noting the high quality once more. The televisions in my house had never been that nice. They had always been scuffed and cracked in the sides, results of excited kids crashing into the sides during vicious battles. Aunt Ingrid and Uncle William had never been there to witness the collisions, neither did they note the declining conditions of the television, along with most of the furniture in the house as the kids grew up. I hope that they were sitting with Ava and Peara and Ivy and Spud and sweet little Arley tonight. Someone had to help them grow up when I left.

"For Cornelius Fields, the respectable score of four!"

I clap for Cornelius, smiling as he blushes and rubs the back of his neck. He had told me that he had climbed the rock walls like the trees back in the district, moving around them and making sure to never touch the ground until the session was over. He deserved that four. He deserved to live. He deserved to grow up.

"Cornelius, you did wonderfully!" Our mentor can't contain his excitement as he slaps Cornelius on the back, and the teen cringes as he plants his feet against the floor to make sure that he doesn't fall over. "That score will get at least a few Capitolites talking about you. And that's exactly what you need, with your popularity in the Capitol thus far. You two need more attention coming to you after your lackluster reapings and parade."

Our mentor walks away, blissfully unaware that he had just crushed our only hopes of being somewhat liked by the Capitol, and a small tear rolls down Cornelius' cheek. I shrug, turning my attention back to the huge screen. I was used to disappointment, enough to make me expect the worst whenever fate came traipsing in my direction. Why should I hope for any better when better never came?

Cornelius started to whimper quietly, and I scooted closer to the crestfallen boy. "Are you okay?"

He turns towards me, his face streaked with silent tears. "I dunno, I guess, I guess, I just wish that they'd see me for who I am. They only see my face and my score and assume I'm nothing when they could find out _so much more_!" He spits the last few words out harshly before softening once more, looking away from me.

"And for the lovely Pepper Maywell, a five!"

I pay no attention to my score, instead turning to the boy who is crying in the middle of the couch. I've never really understood the need to be seen for I truly am; I've never had to do so when I lived with my aunt and uncle, but Cornelius just wanted it so badly. He wanted to let them see his art, his dreams, everything that he couldn't show because he was going into the competition. "And who is the real you, Cornelius?"

Cornelius turns to me slowly, something looking close to panic running through his face. I frown ever-so-slightly, trying to puzzle out what he has to hide. Why was he taking so long to respond? Did I offend him with my statement? Was he just scared? Did he just want to go home?

He seems to stop for a moment, looking away and not answering to my question, but after the quietest minute I had ever sat through, he turns back, a grit in his face that seems to say that he's going to answer. "Cornelia Fields."

I jolt back slightly from the surprise of the statement, looking at Cornelius, - no, Cornelia - who stared back at me bravely. She had made it past her nerves. For better or worse, she had told me the truth.

I had never met a person who was like Corneliu - Cornelia, my life had always been sheltered and silent. Did I really believe that she was a she? Did I side with her, or whomever she had been hiding from all of her life?

"And for Bernard Hancock, a great score of six!"

But I couldn't forget that she had chosen me, _me_ , to come out to. It must have taken so much courage for do so, to tell me something that could mean so much regret. Cornelia was brave. She was braver than anyone else that I knew. She had known that I might not accept her confession, pushing her back into her hiding place and refusing to speak to the boy who said she was a girl. But she had done so. She had trusted me. I knew that she had taken a while to warm up to me, that she had never really felt comfortable around me other than when she was drawing. Maybe it was regret, maybe it was sadness, _maybe it was envy_ , but she had pushed through those emotions. She had trusted me.

"And finally, the lovely Moon Kraków has received an impressive score of seven!"

I smiled slightly, reaching out my hand towards Cornelia. She looked up at me, unsure of what I was doing, but slowly extended her hand towards mine. "Nice to meet you, Cornelia."

 **AND I FINALLY FINISHED THIS LONG LONG LONG CHAPTER! Hooray! Honestly, I'm both tired out and excited by this chapter. Lol, I could have and probably done so for the other chapters, but it was the score reveals which got this treatment. I hope you enjoyed it, because I worked really hard on it XD XD just look at the length, and leave a review! Keep sending in those check in pms unless you've done so already, and get ready for the interviews! Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	26. Interview Prep: All That Glimmers

**Nehemiah Bunting, 15, District Eight Male**

He coughs politely as the stylists measure him for his outfit, dancing around him with tape measures and pieces of cloth that they hold up against his bare torso before shaking their heads and running for another. He's been standing in the middle room like this for fifteen minutes. And if the way they're moving is any indication, he'll be here for a bit longer. The Capitolites want him to shine. He's District Eight, the home of all sorts of fabrics and fashion and beautiful outfits! He should shine just as much as a One, maybe even more!

But when he's fitted for his costume, all he'll be able to think about is the blood that was spilled to make it.

Hem's father flashes through his mind for an instant, a picture of his smiling face lingering behind as he blinks away a small tear. He shouldn't think about his father yet. After all, he's been advised to forget about his family and just smile for the Capitol by Tomas, to just pretend that he loves being here and that he's had the best food of his life here.

But when he's given his last chance to say goodbye, why should he squander it?

The stylists continue to measure, one of them routinely dashing out of the room and back with different shades of red and gold. They've seemed to settle on a pattern for his outfit and are now quickly double-checking to make sure that it fits, continuously crying out in delight and patting his cheek as they pass him. He smiles ruefully, rubbing his sore cheek as the stylists continue to frantically run out of the room. Soon enough, there's only one left of them, silently cutting out fabric and checking to make sure that it fits on Hem. Then he runs out of the room and Hem's all alone, silently standing in the middle of the room as he waits for them to come back.

Only eighteen hours before the bloodbath starts.

He doesn't want to die tomorrow. He wants to survive. He just wants to survive.

But is it really plausible for him to do so? Eight will be gunned for from the start, what with Tomas having won just the year prior. The fact that they had done well in the private sessions only bolstered their chances of being gunned for. After all, the careers were there to get rid of the competition. And right now, he and Holly were at the top of the list.

He'll make sure to smile in his interview. He wants to make sure that his father can remember him with a smile on his face.

One of the stylists cries out in delight as another comes in with his finished outfit, all surrounding him as they quickly work on articles of clothing onto his slight body. They finish with rapid speed, crying out in delight as they gazed at their finished product. Hem glances down to see a gold and red patchwork suit covering his body, different shades of the colours blending in to form a snappy suit. He laughs as the stylists spray his hair with a gold substance, leaving it shiny and thick once they finish molding it. His head matches the suit.

One of the stylists call for their head, Gorgio, to come and see Hem, and he cringes as the man walks in silently and surveys him. Up and down his eyes go around Hem's body, silently observing the suit. He gives a small nod and the stylists cheer, patting one another on the back and clapping for me. "You'll do well out there! Remember to be funny! The audience loves comedic tributes."

He smiles politely for them before they all walk out, leaving him alone once more. And strangely enough, he's fine being alone. He can let the shiny tears that have been streaming down his face flow in peace.

 **Taffeta Paisley, 18, District One Female**

She smiles politely as the stylists start to twirl around her, waiting patiently for them to fit her for her dress. It's bound to be beautiful, One always has beautiful dresses. For all five years of the interviews, the One girl has always gotten the most attention for her dress and, as a result, the most sponsors. And this year, she intends to be the sixth.

"Oh, the crowd's bound to remember you, you beauty," coos a purplish woman as she yanks a knot out of Taffeta's hair. "Of course, it'll help that you're going last, my dearie."

"Last?" Taffeta asks, looking queerly at the stylists. The interviews have always been One to Twelve, Female to Male, and she had thought that it would always remain that way. But the Capitol was fickle, and they had likely demanded to save the best for last. Who wanted to struggle through watching sniveling outliers at the end of the interviews when they could be spurred on by the thought of careers being at the end?

She smiles again as the stylists bring out her dress, a gorgeous velvet and violet stunner with a slit up the right side that makes her lips curl up in satisfaction. Oh, she's going to make an _impression_.

The stylists clap in delight as they watch her twirl around the room, curtseying for them and letting them add a few accessories to the outfit. As they continue, she watches her reflection in the mirror, enraptured by the beautiful girl grinning to her stylists. She has to give props to her stylist, it is an amazing outfit. When she comes back, she'll definitely recommend them for her victory interview.

The stylists file out one by one, waving goodbye to Taffeta and promising that her stylist will return soon, and she's left alone in the room. She's content to look at herself at first, but impatience combined with anticipation soon bades her to rise from her seat and search for Luxx. Even if he is a royal pain and a complete idiot, he might as well get to see her shine. He probably won't even have a good outfit. With any luck, she'll outshine him like the sun does the moon.

She walks quietly down the hall, suppressing a grin as she peers in the various doors. Even though she's supposed to sit primly in her own room, she's escaped and is looking around the centre like some rebel. Funny how things work out.

She keeps peeking in the doors, being rewarded with an image of an uncomfortable Luxx in a shiny green suit. He scowls when he sees her, tugging at his neck as he stands up and walks towards the door. "What are _you_ doing here?"

She smiles, twirling in the doorframe and leaning against the side. "Just wanted to see how my least favourite twin was doing! And oh, it doesn't look that good."

Luxx laughs in her face, shutting the door in her face. His voice drifts through the thin wood, laced with sarcasm. "At least one of us has personality."

She scoffs and walks away from the door, hurrying back to her room and shutting the door. She'll show them all. She's going to have the best interview by far out of every tribute in this building.

And after she's finished, they'll all know not to mess with Taffeta Paisley.

 **Wyatt Blink-Box, 14, District Five Male**

He yawns as he waits for his stylists to continue dressing him, holding his hands up customarily and slipping on pants quickly as they jabber in their high, foreign Capitol accents to one another. They're obviously worried about something with his outfit, he can tell by the way one of them is trying to dab away tears off of their face while a girl with blue skin comforts them. And when they bring the failed outfit out, he can see why.

The stylist who might be in charge of the rest yells loudly, causing the girl with pink skin to cringe as she hurries the metal monstrosity away. Even Wyatt breathes a sigh of relief when it vanishes; it looks like a failed parade outfit. And the interviews aren't meant to have outfits like the parades. They're supposed to make them look like proper Panemians. And right now, he has nothing to make him look like one.

The stylist in charge gives up in disgust after a man with a blond afro snaps and yells at him, walking out of the room and leaving his employees scattering around the room in panic. One of them brings out a tuxedo and the others nod, the girl with pink hair tossing him a green tie to match. He puts on the outfit quickly, breathing in sharply as Afro tightens his tie an inch away from suffocation. A few frantic hand gestures manages to get one of the stylists to loosen the green tie, and Wyatt's left alone in the room as the rest of the stylists leave, their heads sagging as they admit defeat.

He can't help but feel pity for the stylists. They tried an idea that clearly failed, and he knows that they're likely going to be replaced by other, better stylists sometime in the near future. There's no room for failure in the Capitol.

Just like there isn't any room for it in the Games.

Mom and Dad are probably working right now, darting glances up at the television in their studies as they wait for the interviews to start. He can't blame them for not stopping to work. After all, they have a kid to support, and their jobs don't pay much.

Well, they have a kid to support for _now_.

He shivers when he remembers that he'll be stuck standing next to Ashrifah in the line, the girl likely already gathering up anger for her interview. Or maybe not. Ashrifah is many things, but she doesn't seem to be a person who was mad at the Capitol to him. She seemed like her hatred was for weaklings in general.

But at least he'll be able to lock himself in his room and hide if her interview goes bad tonight.

 **Paxton Webb, 13, District Nine Male**

The stylists are happy with his simple outfit, one of them playfully tousling his blond locks before exiting the room and chattering happily to one another. They dare to be happy with this, this, this green polo shirt and beige pants? Why? Why are they so content with something so simple? Don't they want him to _shine_?

No matter. He'll just make up for it in the bloodbath. He has plans for the bloodbath. And when he's finished with them, no one will mistake him for a cute little boy with tousled blond hair again.

He automatically grins when a stylist comes back into the room, waving to him as they pick up a brush before walking back out, a silly little grin on their face. Well done, stylists. Well done. They'd wipe off that silly little grin on their face if he demonstrated to them exactly what he'd like to do to their precious dyed foreheads…

 _Steady on_ , he cautions himself. He can't blow up. Not yet. Not when he still has the Capitol on his side. Even an avox can easily communicate to some higher-up that he's not the innocent little boy that they're all content to believe that he is.

He grabs an apple and chews, letting the sweet flavour flow down his throat as he continues to bite. Panem, he's so hungry he could -

A sharp pain comes from his tooth and he instinctively spits out the apple, feeling around in his mouth for what happened. Was there a switchblade hidden in the knife? Was someone intent on sabotaging him? Was he _wounded_? He can't be wounded! It isn't even the Games yet! He can't deal with a mouth injury tonight. Not tonight. Anyday but tonight.

He feels the fresh gap in his teeth and groans in relief, bending down to grab the apple. The tooth isn't inside of the fruit, but a quick scan of the floor proves to discover the molar. It's his last one. He can show it to the Capitolites tonight. Maybe the loss of a tooth will be enough to convince him that he's just an innocent little boy.

And when he reveals what he can _really_ do in the bloodbath, they'll be all the more surprised.

He straightens the collar on his shirt and stands up once more, being careful to grab a banana this time around. There's a knife on the side of the table, one that's dull enough to make sure that he won't be able to injure himself or someone else while he's in here. There are probably cameras in here as well, keeping an eye on him in case he gets any strange ideas. No matter. He'll be fine all alone.

He takes the knife and slowly slits the skin of the banana, curving it around until the skin falls onto the ground in a heap. He smiles and drops the knife on the floor, chewing the gooey banana and smiling wide grins for the benefit of the security cameras. Maybe they'll think it's weird that a kid would peel a banana like that. But he doesn't care anymore. He's almost past caring at this point.

But he sits back down quickly once his stylists come back into the room, smiling for them and letting them gaze at their sloppy work one last time. He still cares enough to let them think that he's weak.

After all, loose lips sink ships.

 **Zora Stikander, 16, District Two Female**

She shifts to the side of her chair, waiting impatiently for her stylists to come back into the room. The idiots obviously have no idea how easy it is for her to slip out of the room and to wherever she wants to go. But she won't say that out loud. She doesn't want to offend any person who could potentially sponsor her through the Games. She needs sponsors, especially if it's true what they said and that she's going to be third last in the row of tributes. She doesn't trust the Capitol audience enough to remember her well when she's at the end of the program. She's got to shine today, just like Caleb said. And then she can prove her worth in the bloodbath.

She looks up as her mentor enters the room, sitting down and smiling politely with his white cane as he stares in the direction of what he believes that she's in. "Pleasure to see you today, miss."

She can't stop herself from snickering, covering her mouth and throwing back her hair. "And you too. Enjoy my dress?"

Caleb ponders the thought for a moment, pushing back a lock of hair as he answers. "Very… _creative_ of the Capitol to do such a thing."

She looks down at the gold and black dress and laughs, patting her chair on the side. "Isn't it? I've always liked the colour gold. Nice to wear the colour of victory."

Caleb nods, stroking his chin as he adjusts his dark sunglasses. "Make sure to have fun. You can't lose track of that."

"Yes, I know. I'll be ready. After all, it's easy to talk in front of a bunch of brightly coloured birds. They repeat everything you say, you know."

"As long as you don't say anything you don't want them to repeat." Caleb's face turns to a serious expression, his voice quiet and somber. "Just… just be happy. It's all you, you know. I don't have any great tips for how to showcase a dress, just advice. But if you aren't having a good time, there's no point in showing that side to the Capitol. That isn't the side they'll see in the Games, is it?"

She nods, standing up and shaking his hand. "They'll see my lighter side today. And I'll make sure to show it in the Games as well."

"Don't go frolicking through any daisies. It might blind me," Caleb quips, and Zora bursts into laughter. She straightens her dress as she sits back down, allowing Caleb to stand back up. "Are you ready to go? We're on in a few minutes."

She stands up again, fixing her hair as the excited stylists come back into the room and help Zora and Caleb get through the hallway. She'll be ready.

After all, she has plenty of time to prepare.

 **Ashrifah Keyaut, 16, District Five Female**

She walks down the hallway with her stylists, frowning as her dress flounces through the hallway. The pink, fluffy, and huge _creature_ \- it's so bizarre, it might as well be the hide of some strange animal - clings to her sides as she continues to make her way towards the growing line of tributes at the stage, brushing against her stylists. One of the stylists with rings all the way up her ear touches it with something that looks like awe, stroking the fabric with care. Why are they so pleased with this, with this _monstrosity_? She looks like a little girl, all dressed up for a party!

But she's not just another little girl to die in the bloodbath. They should have dressed her in all leather. That would show the Capitol her true side. But she's stuck in this creature of a dress for the interviews, and that's just the way it is.

As soon as it's over, she's going to rip it off and throw it into a potted plant next to the elevator. With any luck, it'll grow into some tree with proper watering.

Part of the dress rubs against Wyatt, and the skinny boy slows down with a surprised look on his face. He wasn't expecting the feel of the fabric. It's as itchy as coarse wool inside of it, and she can feel sweat dripping down her thighs as she continues to walk towards the end of the hallway. Yep, that's what the Capitol will first notice when she walks onto the stage. A black-haired girl with a pink monster on her shoulders and pools of sweat in her shoes.

At least she's after the other outliers. By the time they get to her, they'll just accept it. There's always at least _one_ strange outfit from the other outliers. It might be Nine, it might be Twelve, but one district always gets the short straw for the interviews. As long as the outfit's worse than hers. But looking at the dress, that might not be as plausible as she might hope.

She's screwed.

 **Bernard Hancock, 12, District Twelve Male**

He grins in the line, standing next to Moon as they get in front of the pair from Eleven. "Do you think we might get any sponsors tonight?"

Moon laughs hoarsely, scratching the side of her neck as she waits for the interviewers to finish speaking. "We'll be lucky to not _lose_ sponsors, Bernard. Just stay calm."

She blushes slightly, scratching the back of her neck and breathing in and out quickly. That's when he realizes that Moon is nervous. And like the mature, responsible person he is, he doesn't react to it instantly.

He waits five seconds before he starts to tease her.

"Don't worry, _Moon_ , there are only around fifty people in there that you actually have to please. They're all game makers, but no matter! You can go piss off the rest of the crowd, as long as you don't do anything _truly_ stupid. Don't want any tainted sponsor gifts, do we?"

"Shut up," Moon growls, glaring at Bernard as he dodges her fist. "Don't make me punch you. That'll look real nice in front of all of those cameras."

"But we aren't supposed to fight any other tributes before the Games start!" he protests in mock innocence, turning around to face his annoyed district partner. "After all, there's no chance that you'll catch me in that dress like one of your squirrels. Just make sure you don't trip over yourself as you choke on stage! Don't want Mom to see that at home, do you?"

Moon breathes heavily, glaring at Bernard with hatred as she struggles to contain herself. She's on the brink of attacking him, he knows it for sure. But before he has a chance to push her over the edge, Bernard's whisked onto the stage and towards Belinda. Time to shine.

The crowd applauds him as he sits down heavily on his chair, grinning in the top hat and red and green suit that he's been outfitted in. "Thank you! Thank you! I'll be sure to remember how loud you guys are in the Games. It only gets this loud in Twelve when a mine collapses!"

Only a few children laugh at his joke in the audience, the rest remaining deathly still. Never mind, he still has a chance. It's only one joke, and it was before Belinda even started to speak! He's going to do well, right?

Of course. He isn't here for nothing.

 _He's here to die._

 **Just roll with the change to Third Person Present.**

 **Also, where have I been for the last two months? Glad you asked. Actually, I've been working all summer, thirty-five hours each week as a janitorial assistant in my old school. And before you asked, yes, it sucked. It paid well, but it SUCKED. I did manage to finish my partial SYOT, Impossible, before the end of the summer, but now I'm trapped in a little thing I call school. I advise you not to try it :3**

 **Well, I hope you guys liked the chapter! Before the two or three of you who are left yell at me for being gone so long, one, remember that I haven't given up, and two, I have written the bloodbath! That 8.3K chapter is waiting to be uploaded after the two remaining pre-game chapters, so look out for that ;) I'm looking forward to getting into the Games! Probably the only thing I want to say is that I hope I can get back into an okay update pace, but I won't promise you anything. This year in school has been a bit of a leap, to say the least.**

 **Anyway, I hoped you liked the chapter! Read, review, follow, fave, and look forward to the interviews! Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	27. Interviews: The Lights Go On Again

**Moon Kraków, 17, District Twelve Female**

She shakes her head as a confident Bernard talks to Belinda, unaware that he's lost any support he might have had from the crowd with the way he's presenting himself. He's almost cocky, something that you wouldn't suspect from one of the youngest, if not _the_ youngest, person in these Games.

He's dead.

And she's next.

Another cold wave of sweat comes over her brow, and she wipes it away as she readies herself for the worst three minutes of her life. She doesn't want to go out there, she can't, she won't!

But then the buzzer beeps loudly and Bernard waves goodbye, eliciting a welcome cheer from the crowd as they watch him walk away on his hands. What do you know? The kid just needed to show them what he could do.

If only she could. But there's nothing out there to trap.

Her long pink dress drags on the floor as she walks out into the blinding lights and the heat of the stage, the crowd cheering politely for her. She doesn't like the way it drags behind her, but it's all for the sake of _fashion_.

The Capitolites cheer once more as she sits down slowly, narrowing her eyes to focus on the crowd. There are a few kids in the back rows, their eyes drooping as they snuggle into their parent's sides. Their heads are dropped to the side of the chair unceremoniously whenever the adults stand up to cheer for tributes, causing Moon to smile slightly. No wonder they're all so ditzy.

"Moon? And _how_ exactly did you enjoy your apartment?"

Moon looks up with a start, blushing fiercely and flustering through her answer. "I-I-I did li-like it, I guess, it was nice and all… but I think that the tributes are… I dunno, really interesting. I liked being in the training center."

Her brain seems to be erupting in anger and fright, but she can't stop herself from babbling. She's absolutely butchering this interview. But she can't stop, it's the only way she can cope with all of those eyes on her. She hates all of those people watching.

They wouldn't look at her like that in the arena. She just needs to get through these next twelve hours before she can escape to the sanctuary of the arena.

But first, she's got to survive these next three minutes.

"How's your family doing?" Belinda asks, fluttering her long eyebrows in the air as she pushes back her perma-blonde hair. There's nothing Moon wants to do more than pluck every one of those false extensions out of Belinda's eyelids right now. But no, she has to come up with a witty reply.

"They're doing well! I hope Grandma hasn't died yet."

Well fuck.

 **Cornelia Fields, 13, District Eleven 'Male'**

If only there was a way to make the Capitolites all look away from her.

She had watched the girl from Twelve struggle to talk to the crowd, leaving the interviewer - Vanilli had called her Belinda - laughing nervously as she tried to steer the conversation into a more profitable area for the girl. But it had been too much, and the cold-eyed girl had stalked off with a hiss as the buzzer ended. Now she's next, and she doesn't know what to do.

Her dress is sparkling in the light of the stage she's behind, and some of the other tributes are giving her strange looks. She turns away, Pepper squeezing her hand as she looks back towards the stage. She doesn't particularly want to go out there. She doesn't want everyone to look at her.

But as the girl walks away, Cornelia grits her teeth and trots out onto the stage towards Belinda.

The crowd murmurs to themselves as she sits down, then politely applauds her as she sits down next to the prim interviewer. Belinda squeezes her hand tightly before raising Cornelia up to her feet, letting her shine in front of the nation. "Cornelius Fields, everybody!"

The crowd cheers again, and Cornelia smiles slightly. Maybe she should say something. After all, she's dressed to the nines right now. She's never worn something that looks like gold, let alone with actual gold woven among the strands of thread.

She's dressed in her battle armour. Now, all she has to do is tell Belinda the truth.

Belinda smiles kindly at her, pushing her hair back. "A nice dress you have there! Is it comfortable?" she whispers, dropping her voice into a conspiratorial tone.  
"Oh yes!" Cornelia shakes her head firmly, feeling the side of the dress. "Very warm though. I'm sweating like a hog right now, but it's worth it!"

The crowd laughs and applauds once more, and she breathes in deeply. Belinda smiles and cocks her head to the side - Cornelia sees the wires extending up to her ear and realizes she's listening to her superiors - before speaking once more. "Are you enjoying the Capitol?"

"I am!" she says before blushing, shivering in her warm dress. She forgot her nervousness for a bit, but now it's back in full force. What if Mom and Dad are watching right now? What would they think of her?

"I hope you're enjoying the Capitol. I hope to think that we're a _very_ accepting city," Belinda shouts pointedly, and the crowd roars in approval. Belinda's just given Cornelia her ticket to acceptance.

So she grasps onto it like a drowning man in one of the ponds of Eleven and tows her way there.

"I hope they don't mind that two girls came from Eleven," she says quietly, the words stumbling out of her throat and into the world. The Capitolites scream again, one of the teenage boys in the front row whistling loudly for her as others hold up signs of marriage proposals. They might be for other tributes, more stunning tributes, but right now they are for _her_.

She can die happy right now.

The buzzer beeps and Belinda waves apologetically to Cornelia before holding her hand up in the air. "I forgot to ask you your name! What is it? I'm sure that other tributes won't mind learning yours."

"Cornelia. Cornelia Fields!" she shouts, skipping off of the stage and towards the tributes from Twelve. It was such a nice interview.

Almost nice enough to forget that she's heading to her death tomorrow.

 **Carol Farrier, 13, District Ten Female**

If only there was a way to make the Capitolites all look away from her.

Cornelius - wait, Corne _lia_ \- had already won the Capitol over with her interview, leaving Carol stuck in the background as Marshall frantically tried to get the Capitol interested in District Ten once more. Pepper had coasted off of Cornelia's popularity, smiling shyly and remaining somewhat confident in front of the excited crowd, calmly talking to Belinda about how she liked to look at art. Quite a funny thing, a girl from the districts longed to do something that only Capitolites and the richest of the districts could afford to do so. Their escort had shown them the hundreds of buildings outside of their training center, pointing at what she called an 'Art Museum' and whatever a 'Mall' was. That was before she started to complain about how there was nothing to do in the districts while she waited for the reapings to begin. People like that were strange to Carol. Why would they need more than what they had in front of them? How could one be bored when there was so much _work_ to do at home? Maybe that was why the Capitolites were so excited for the Games. They had nothing else to think about.

But now it's almost her turn, and she's got to find a way to impress the people who are entranced by nothing more than carnage.

She should have asked for a chicken. Maybe they like live demonstrations.

An intern ushers her onto the stage, and she waves calmly as she walks towards Belinda. It isn't that bad out here as she thought. All she has to do is remember that the Capitolites are just waiting to applaud. As long as she doesn't mess up, she'll be fine.

"Carol! Wonderful to see you!" Belinda pecks her on both cheeks and Carol struggles not to wipe them off, smiling thinly and sitting down. She looks at her dress and smiles, feeling the soft brown fabric and the gold trim running around the dress. It's nicer than anything she's worn, even the white dress back at home. The one that burnt with the rest of her house.

"It's nice to see you too!" Carol nods slowly as Belinda grins, hoisting her up to display her to the crowd once more. The crowd cheers loudly, and Carol breathes in deeply. She can do this. She can.

"How has the Capitol been treating you? I just _love_ those curls on your gorgeous hair!" Belinda gushes, and Carol smiles. They're all flounce and fluff, little substance in any of the Capitolites cheering for her. Why are they so ditzy?

"I like your products in the showers. They're much nicer than anything in Ten." Carol pauses, remembering that she didn't stop to grab anything from the bathroom when she had collected the supplies in the house.. Oops. "The dresses are nice as well."

The crowd cheers for the stylists in a corner, and her own stylist stands up and waves to her. Carol nods in recognition and waits for Belinda's next question, twiddling her thumbs as Belinda prepares. Finally, the applause dies down, and Belinda continues. "Are you ready for the Games? I think you're _much_ better than the three you've earned."

"I'll play my hardest. That's all I can do." She hopes that none of them see her heart rise into her throat when she remembers the Games, her breathing getting quicker and more panicked. She's going to die tomorrow. She's going to die. But if they see her panic, sponsors won't care about her even if she escapes the bloodbath. She'd just guarantee her death that way.

But then the lights cut out and it doesn't matter anyway.

 **Monique Rivera, 18, District Four Female**

She can't hear anything in this darkness other than screams and nervous laughter.

Keelan is likely grinning beside her, enjoying the pure chaos of the moment. He seemed to be that kind of guy, throwing himself into anything for the thrill. No wonder he volunteered. The Games were a rush for an adrenaline junkie. She had volunteered herself to show herself that she could win, that she could work hard enough for the glory of victory. She had trained for it for years, after all. Why turn down the opportunity when no one else had been planning to volunteer in Four?

And a small part of herself, one buried deep in her heart, knows that she volunteered to see if she can't come out of the arena in better shape than Craig. She doesn't want him to taint the family with his breakdowns. She has to win. She's going to win.

But first, she's got to find someplace safe in this studio. She can hear the hard thuds and yelps of pain from tributes and Capitolites falling onto the carpeted floor.

She scrambles away from the rest of the tributes, grabbing one random tribute and dragging them through the panicking crowd as a buffer as she tries not to fall in this stupid, golden, puffy dress. Why is it so hard to walk in this thing? The person squirms but resists as they approach a dim red light in the corner, scrambling ahead of Monique to get under the safety of the exit. It's Taffeta, and she's fuming in the stunning velvet dress she has on. At least she's one of the sane careers. Monique didn't want to grab Luxx.

"What the fuck happened right now? What? Do you know what happened? Do you, Monique? Are we continuing the interviews? We've got to, I've got to show the crowd, I've got to, I've got to, I've got to, I've got to..." Screw that. Taffeta's even worse than Luxx. Monique forgot for a moment that she was an egotistical brat.

Taffeta tears off her black rose headband and tosses it into the darkness, spitting on the ground. "We're all screwed. We can't win over the Capitol, we can't charm sponsors, any of us with less than satisfactory scores are stuck looking like wimps. This sucks! Sucks, sucks, sucks, sucks, sucks!"

Monique composes her face in order not to laugh, carefully choosing her approach. "We're going to be fine, Taffeta. We'll survive. As long as we don't freak out too much, we _will_ perform well enough in the bloodbath to attract sponsors. We just have to be ready to kill. Do you understand? Are you okay, Taffeta?"

Taffeta nods slowly, spotting Ajax in the throng of the panicked crowd and dragging him back to the group. Ajax seems confused by the commotion, scratching his reddish-brown hair and biting his lip nervously. "Do you think this was on purpose?"

"Of course not!" Monique says, watching the crowd push past one another in an attempt to find the exits. Nobody notices the dimly lit exit that they're standing in, they're too busy finding their way back from where they came in. They keep panicking, pushing past one another to find an exit, ignoring the way out that's right in front of them. Only a few little kids manage to find the exit she's standing in front of, smiling at Monique and waving to Taffeta before disappearing through the opening.

Ajax waves back sheepishly, biting his lip. "I don't think so. There's something off."

"Maybe you're right," Monique admits as the emergency lights on the other side of the studio start to finally light up, revealing the rest of the panicked crowd. "But I think that we're not getting through all of the interviews, if any more at all."

"Well, fuck." Taffeta glares determinedly at the ground, her dress partially ripped on the right side. "Enjoy losing the games, guys. We don't got a chance."

And as Monique looks up at the moonlight from the lone skylight in the ceiling, she's forced to admit that Taffeta's right.

 **Ryker Underwood, 18, District Seven Male**

He shouts in surprise when the lights go out, trying to feel his way out of the line and towards any light. Who knows what's happening? Maybe it's a malfunction, maybe it's a saboteur, or maybe it's all a test. But he wants to get out right now.

People start screaming rather quickly, the shrill voice of a little girl piercing through the crowd as panicked children race towards the line. They see what their elders don't - an escape to light from the generators at the back of the stage by the line of tributes waiting to enter the stage. Some of them stop and wave to him as they run out, a little boy hugging him tightly before running with a green-haired little girl towards the light.

Ryker grabs for someone, anyone, and finds a hand to drag towards the exit. He pushes through the crowd of kids, the person struggling fiercely to escape his grip. "Let me go! Let me go!"

"It's me, Aris!" he yells to his district partner, stopping in the middle of the crowd. "What's wrong?"

Aris wrenches her hand out of his, scowling. "Don't pull my hand off before the Games."

Ryker laughs, the makeup on his face running slightly from the sweat pouring down his face. "You'll have worse to worry about if this is something worse than a mere power outage."

Aris laughs coldly, her voice drifting through the crowd. "As if I should be worried of your alliance. Here's a deal: I won't hurt you, you won't hurt me. District honour?"

"District honour." They both whistle the first few notes of the lumberjack's song before laughing, Aris smiling. Maybe she'd be good in the alliance. But no, there's already four of them, and having Aris will have too many people to keep track of. Maybe if someone dies…

And then the lights come back on again.

 **Shawn Andersen, 14, District Three Male**

He's not prepared for when the lights come on again.

One moment, he was trapped in a sea of screaming, terrified Capitolites, clambering onto the stage and to the line of tributes in their effort to escape whatever they're running away from - the fact that some unruly teenagers decided to play gunshot sound effects on electronics during the middle of the stampede didn't help - and now the lights are back on, revealing the panic of the crowd. He can see a little boy out of the corner of his eye screaming in pain, his leg bruised and bent in an unnatural way as his parents lift him up and carry him out. He was trampled by the crowd. But as soon as the lights come back on, Belinda announces that they're all perfectly safe and sound here. The crowd stills rather quickly, most starting to sheepishly return from the doorways and back to their comfortable seats. It's funny how much goes on in the dark. People do strange things when they can't be seen.

Someone slips past Shawn and palms him a piece of paper, leaving him whirling around as Capitolites flood back to their seats as Belinda calls for calm. "Attention! Attention, please!"

The crowd finally starts to calm, and Belinda sighs in relief before tapping the microphone twice. "Due to this… interruption in our interviews, the game makers have ruled that the remaining interviews will be cut to 120 seconds each to allow for tributes to actually sleep tonight."

A ripple of laughter runs through the crowd, and Belinda sits down in relief. "Now, we'll be starting with District Nine's Paxton!"

The young boy whimpers as he comes onto the stage, shrinking into his shoulders and wiping away what seem to be tears as he takes his seat next to Belinda. Belinda, ever the optimist, puts her arm around his shoulders and smiles. "Aren't you happy to be here? We sure are! Aren't we?"

Paxton shakes his head slowly as the crowd seems to explode in delight, burying his face in his palms. "I-I don't want to be-be in the Hunger Games."

Belinda hugs Paxton tightly, her smile still permanently plastered to her cheeks. Maybe she's gotten surgery to make herself look younger, Shawn thinks wryly. It certainly would clear up why that smile seems to be bolted to her cheeks.

Paxton leaves as soon as the interview's over, sobbing into his arms and running towards the spot where the other tributes who have finished are currently sitting. Carol seems shaken by her interview still, and Shawn can't deny her the fact that she's had the most… well, _eventful_ interview of them all. It might not work out in her favour, but more will remember the moment the lights went out, rather than Cornelia's reveal.

Giovanna enters the stage next, smiling confidently and strutting in her crimson dress. The white sash around her waist flutters in the air, and the crowd applauds her beaming stylist as she takes a seat next to Belinda. "Hi! Happy to be here!"

The crowds cheer for Giovanna, and Belinda hugs her warmly. "It's good to have you! Any insights on the other tributes tonight?"

Giovanna laughs, the sound echoing through the large auditorium. "Lots of strong competitors here. I'm hoping that I can catch some of them off guard."

"But with your six, you might have shown them that you're a threat."

Giovanna nods, her confident facade slipping slightly to reveal a nervous and determined girl behind the mask. "I-I am a threat. I just don't want them to know that yet."

Nehemiah Bunting is the next to enter the stage, the crowd cheering for his red-and-gold patchwork suit and cap. Nehemiah seems elated by the applause, sitting down with fervour and grinning at Belinda. Belinda smiles back, re-arranging the cards in her hands and looking down at them momentarily. "Hi, Nehemiah! Are you enjoying the Capitol?"

"I am!" Nehemiah says warmly, waving to the crowd. The crowd cheers for him, and he breathes deeply before turning back to Belinda. "I'm loving the food here."

Well, that's one option gone for Shawn to endear himself to the Capitolites.

"And do you miss home?" Belinda prods, her eyes narrowing slightly. Nehemiah pauses, his positive mindset shattering and leaving behind tears. The boy shakes his head as tears spill out of his eyes, wiping them away firmly.

"I am. I miss it so much… I hope I haven't caused Dad too much worry..."

The crowd responds with positivity, one girl standing up on the top of her seat and shouting, "I love you, Hemmy!" But then the interview's over and Nehemiah leaves, allowing Hollister to enter the stage, now covered with mist. The girl's dress is on _fire_ , the flames flickering in the light as she walks towards the stage. But when the mist disappears, it only proves to be an illusion, the blue dress shining in the light. Hollister blushes and waves to the crowd, talking quietly and blushing when asked about home. She doesn't have a mother either.

Ryker smiles firmly and walks towards Belinda with strength, the grey tuxedo he's wearing fading into the dim background of the stage. But his cheeks are flushed with excitement, bringing colour to his outfit, and the female portion of the crowd, along with a few males, cheer Ryker on and shout professions of love. Ryker nods and turns to Belinda, reminding the crowd of his decent score and shouting out his love to his girlfriend back home, which causes the crowd to simultaneously sigh and cheer at once.

Aris smiles bravely through her interview, her small blue dress clinging to her sides as she struggles to hold back a few tears. But she regains her confidence as the interview goes on, blowing kisses to the crowd for the last thirty seconds. She's figured out how to get the approval of the crowd. It means that she might owe some favours to the Capitolites if she wins, but the girl's charm will gain her a few sponsors.

Now, Shawn better figure what the fuck he's going to do before it's his turn to succeed or fail in front of the entire nation.

 **Tony Dongalls, 17, District Six Male**

"What the fuck do you mean I have to go out _there_ at the _same time_ as Isa?" he whispers fiercely to a nervous Doug, who pushes back his hair and breathes deeply. He's not going out there with the little snitch.

"There's only so much time before the broadcast is over. You're all stuck going out at the same time. I _didn't_ say that I _wanted_ it to happen, but you're going to have to figure out how you're going to get along. The other tributes have to do it as well. Do you think the careers are excited to do this as well?"

"The careers don't have Isa as a district partner." Tony glares at Doug as the mentor rubs his neck, nodding firmly to the angry teen. "How about _you_ try going out with her?"

Doug nods again, walking away from the line. "You're still going out in… three… two… one..."

And then Tony's shuttled out towards the stage, Isa looking towards him with uncertainty as she emerges from the other side of the stage. The two walk onto the stage, Isa's short lilac dress hugging her body as she confidently struts in her high heels. Tony's less confident in his white tee and black jeans, the black blazer on top making him sweat. His eyes flash angrily as he meets Isa in the middle, gingerly shaking her hand before they both yank it away in an instant.

"Welcome! And are you enjoying your time in the Capitol together?" Belinda turns towards Isa, but Tony butts in before Isa even opens her mouth. He isn't giving her the pleasure of answering the first question.

"I am! Lots of nice people, as well as some leftovers from home." He turns his head towards Isa pointedly and someone in the crowd laughs before going quiet once more, Isa blushing furiously. Belinda gasps and doesn't give Tony a chance to answer the next question, addressing it to Isa instead.

"How's your home life, young Isa? Are your parents watching you right now?"  
Isa smiles thinly, her lips parting as the gloss on them shines in the light of the stage. "They _are_ , unlike some certain _drunkards_ in my district. Let's just say that they'll be doing everything they can to support me. My parents have very high connections in the Capitol. And my friends will be watching as well. District Six Community Watch, I mean you!"

"Is that what you mean by your badge?" Belinda prods, looking down at Isa's shiny pin.

Fuckin' _stupid_ pin, he thinks. But the Capitolites are as well.

"It is! I'm a founding member of my organization, who track down unsavoury citizens in our district who are breaking certain laws and help erase these large threats. Actually, I've cracked down on our -"

But the buzzer beeps and Tony breathes a sigh of relief as he exits the stage. Maybe he can find somewhere that Isa isn't. But the girl seems to be everywhere, and she smiles cruelly as she brushes by Tony. "You're lucky our time ran out."

"We'll see who's lucky in the Games," he retorts, but the brat merely digs her heel into the tip of his shoe. Tony yelps and clutches his foot as Isa stalks off, taking her seat next to the District Seven Male.

Maybe he can be the one to kill her. Or maybe he can just drown her out tonight with whiskey. He's found where Doug hid the stash. He threw away the morphling - Doug should deserve the right to remain sober, but Tony _needs_ that drink.

The pair from Five are next - brat and the beast, he observes, as the small boy nervously sits down to his district partner. Her pink dress envelops the small boy, hiding his ginger hair and his pale skin. At least the suit isn't anything to write home about, it's just a normal tux with a green tie to spice the whole outfit up.

Ashrifah - at least that's what Tony thinks he heard her name was - _growls_ when it's her turn to answer a question, causing her district partner to shrink back. Does the girl think she's an animal?

Probably. He doesn't understand volunteers.

The boy laughs loudly as he answers his next question, the shrill sound causing Tony's ears to ring. It's official. Five's the worst district out of the lot. They even managed to beat Isa and himself. The boy must be sent from hell itself, his cowardly manner and his self-confidence swelling by the second - don't ask Tony how on earth both of them manage to rise - while Ashrifah's practically an animal. The girl's ready to rip off some heads.

As the pair from Four rise onto the stage, the boy _flips_ onto the stage. Flips!

Doug better not have touched those drinks behind the pipes connected to Isa's personal sink. He's going to erase any memory of this nightmare.

 **Giovanna Fillinfini, 18, District Nine Female**

She brushes back her hair, her dress getting tangled again in these chairs in front of her. A small, selfish side of her is grateful that she didn't have to share an interview with Pax - the boy had sobbed his way through his - but she knows that's wrong. The poor boy's afraid for his life, and she should comfort him, like a good teacher, like a good sister, like a good daughter, like a good teacher.

Maybe she doesn't want to be good anymore.

But that's w _rong_ of her to think like that right now, and she pushes the dark thoughts away to clear her mind once more. What was the plan again? She's got to get Pax to a safe spot and wait for the others, right?

Yeah. Ryker and Marshall will be able to get the supplies she needs. _They_ need, she means. She's not the main focus of the alliance. They've got a child to think about here!

The buzzer beeps again and she looks up to see the pair from Four walk off of the stage, the girl waving goodbye to the crowd as she walks towards Giovanna. She's been lost in her thoughts for the whole interview, hasn't she? The girl from Four should be a victor's sister if Giovanna remembers correctly, but she knows almost nothing about the boy. Only his front flip caught her attention.

She moves into a more comfortable position as the thin girl from Three and the chubby boy come onto the stage, taking a seat next to Belinda. She'll make sure that she pays attention to these two. Any information she can salvage is much better than nothing at all.

Hopefully, the Capitol will remember her. The lights won't help her at all, but maybe they'll remember the dress. They always remember the clothing. The pin the girl from Six is wearing will likely be made by the boatload for sales in the Capitol tomorrow, all Capitolites trying to get them before the girl dies and her fan base is crushed. Giovanna's dress is pretty nice, even if it is a bit long. Maybe someone will like it.

But she's got to focus on these interviews, not fret about clothing. The boy from is acting mysterious, giving half-answers to Belinda that seem to hint at hatred to the Capitol, but the sentences aren't giving a clear reading to the Capitol. The girl - Mira? - is doing somewhat of the same, albeit in a rebellious manner, but the crowd gives them more confused applause than anything as they walk off of the stage.

At least those are two more tributes who did worse than her.

 **Hollister Cuero, 14, District Eight Female**

She pulls at her dress in the chair she's seated in, watching the pair from Two walk onto the stage. The girl's dress shines in the light, whilst the boy's dark red tuxedo and grey bowtie make him a solid and intimidating figure. But it's the girl's eyes that make her shiver more, the eyes seeming to pierce through the crowd and stare directly at her. Zora is a girl who sees everything.

Belinda cheers along with the crowd, seating down the two careers. The crowd seems just as excited now as they did at the start, cheering for the careers with fervour. No wonder they switched up the order. But with the mishap at the girl from Ten's interview, there's no way they'll try it again. In a Capitolites eye, it would be tempting fate to do the same thing once more. It's probably better to go back to the original order. It's less confusing.

"Welcome! Welcome!" Belinda cries, smiling nicely at the two. "Are you two confident with the rest of the career pack?"

"We are," Zora answers, smiling for the interviewer. It doesn't look like the false smiles that Belinda's been throwing out her entire time on the stage, it's genuine, real. The two careers are happy to be here. "How was watching all of us flail around like little children in the dark?"

Belinda laughs, causing the rest of the crowd to go into peals of laughter. "My, my, aren't you the bold one! I was very lucky to have the security team come and help me, although, I must confess, I did scream and might have hit one over the head when they first came."

Zora and Ajax laugh, the crowd following suit. Belinda straightens herself out and smiles again, preparing for her next question. "Now, Ajax, how does it feel to have one of the highest scores of the Games? My my, you're tied for the highest score _ever_! A ten is a wonderful number to have."

Zora stiffens at the comment, but Ajax quickly brings the tension back down. "I have _very_ strong allies this year, especially with Zora here. We're hoping to bring a fourth victor back to Two."

"And good luck to you!" Belinda says as the buzzer beeps, sending the careers away from the stage and towards the rows of tributes. They sit in the row below Hollister, and she can't help but shiver. It's strange to see them so close. Hopefully, they don't see her in the crowd of tributes when the bloodbath begins.

Or she may be the first to die.

The pair from One comes onto the stage next, but the two aren't as in harmony as the Twos. They jostle each other when they come onto the stage, the girl's extravagant outfit overshadowing the boy's simple, shiny green tuxedo. They continue to argue for the entire interviewer, ignoring most of the questions to fire insults to one another. They hide them in compliments and witticisms, of course, Ones know how to play the interview game, but they feel like they've hit a wrong note. When the interview finishes, the boy hurries off of the stage, but the girl lingers to let the crowd cheer for her outfit. They haven't forgotten her in the parade, and they know that her chances at a perfect interview were ruined by the power outage. She doesn't deserve this lacklustre interview.

None of them deserve what they're going through. But now they all have to get ready to play the Games.

 **Selena Arthtome, 36, Assistant Gamemaker**

It feels like alarm bells are going off in the game makers room above the stage, but it's really just Selena's mind screaming at her to hide. She doesn't want to be the source of Hiram's rage about these lights. She had absolutely _nothing_ to do with the malfunction, but the temperamental game maker is sure to blow up at someone, likely the woman who's partially in charge of the games at the moment and is watching potential ratings sink down the drain due to this failure.

It's too bad she can't go back to serving coffee again. Even boiling liquid would hurt less than one of his attacks.

But no angry Hiram emerges to scream at the game makers as the minutes tick by, and the mood of the room slowly begins to relax. Not too much, the man could still pop up and yell at all of them, but at least she doesn't feel like her head's going to be blown off anymore.

She checks on the lights once more - just to see if she can see anything wrong with them, but the only thing that's out of place is the frayed wire that started the blackout in the first place. It's cut loose now, another wire frantically attached to the system to ensure that they wouldn't lose too much airtime. They suffered a loss of about twenty-eight minutes, just in the panic, mayhem, and reseating the remaining Capitolites. That's about nine interview spots lost. Nine! That's why they came up with the perfect solution: to pair up tributes for their interviews. Some shone while others crumbled in the six districts who were forced to pair up, but it had saved the airtime.

Funny, she's about to oversee the deaths of twenty-three tributes and all she can think about is how she managed not to lose any airtime.

A game maker approaches her nervously and Selena waves him over, shaking her head nervously as she turns to the arena monitor. The snow's all gone, but the river looks like it might be close to overflowing. They might have to plan a flood near the end to ensure that the waters can leave the river. Too much pressure in the river and it might hurt the forcefield. "What is it?"

The man coughs, holding out a laptop to Selena. "It's about the wire, ma'am. I couldn't reach Mr. Grisham, so I'll pass it on to you instead."

"So? A mouse cut it, and that's all there is to it." An irritated Selena waves the man away, but the game maker holds firm.

"But ma'am, further analysis proves that it wasn't a mouse. The wire was cut, ma'am."

 **Did I surprise you with basically everything in this chapter? Well, some things were expected, but I enjoyed the power outage. The saboteur has struck…**

 **I started writing this chapter two months ago, so it's been a long time in the making. I'm glad it's finally over!**

 **I've got a poll for bloodbath predictions up right now! Go vote for up to eleven tributes! I've written the bloodbath already, so I'm excited to see how your predictions match up to reality :)))**

 **Now we've only got one more chapter before the bloodbath! Hopefully I can write it quickly, and then I'll post the bloodbath the day after b/c I won't be able to wait any longer. I'm excited to get to the Games! Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	28. Night Before: Real Friends

**Luxx Mortem, 18, District One Male**

He smirks as he's moved through the hallways and towards the stairwell that will take them back to the tribute tower, the escort muttering under her breath about how they've lost their chances at sponsorship. It doesn't really matter, does it? As long as they take the cornucopia, they'll have control of all of the supplies. And unless one of them does something stupid, they won't need any sponsor items in the Games.

And if they really need to get a sponsor item, they can always grope each other until some horny Capitolites reward them.

Taffeta curses as she slowly tears off her outfit, pieces of the rose headband and other bits of the dress being discarded on the ground. "Thanks a lot, bitch."

"Anytime." He walks ahead of Taffeta and towards Headmaster Quick, trying to sidle alongside the quiet victor. He hasn't gotten a chance to speak to him yet. Granted, he did betray his trust by taking the place of Vexx, but Vexx was a foolish little boy who wanted to play a man's game. And Luxx is the man to play.

"Headmaster? Do you have any tips for tomorrow?"

"Don't die." The disgruntled headmaster moves forward, leaving Luxx behind with their escort and Taffeta. Ben Quick is still angry. It looks like the man holds a grudge.

Taffeta laughs cruelly, stepping into the elevator as their mentor opts to take the stairs. "He hates you, you know. He wouldn't mind me killing you off in the bloodbath. I don't think anyone would mind. Especially after that shitshow of an interview."

"Shut up." He presses the first number, the elevator rising quickly to their floor. He should go to bed. It's going to be a long night.

He steps out of the elevator and into the room, grabbing some food and eating it quickly. He doesn't really care what it is, as long as it's good. He's pretty hungry right now. Taffeta delicately picks at her own food, spooning herself pieces of apple. Apple! She's probably anorexic. "Don't overeat tonight. Don't want that pretty little body to get fat."

"Shut up, clone."

"Big mouth from our little doll here. She even comes without a brain!"

"Vexx is twice the man that you are, clone. Now shut up and let me eat in peace."

Luxx leaves the table, slamming his bedroom door and jumping onto the bed. He looks over at the buttons adorning his wall and slams the ones promising food, liberating a pack of chips and some cookies.

He can't wait to kill Taffeta himself in that arena. Maybe that will teach her to keep her pretty little mouth shut.

 **Keelan Spinnaker, 17, District Four Male**

He doesn't know how well the careers will do this year.

They have pretty strong individuals: Zora, despite her lower training score, is one of the more intelligent tributes in the Games, and Ajax was a good fighter, despite a bit unconfident. Two knew what they were doing when they sent both of them into the Games. One had strong fighters as well, despite the fact that they despised each other, and Monique was a copy of her brother in terms of fighting skills. But with the fights between One, and the way that none of them opened up too much to one another, he's not sure how much he can trust them. If anything goes wrong, he'll be the first to jump ship.

It's too bad that there aren't any swimming pools around here. Whenever he's stressed like this, he likes to just dive into the water and swim away all of his worries. It's nice to be in the water. It's _cleansing_.

He looks over at Monique, watching the girl fidget next to her brother. Yep, she wants to go in the water as well.

Mags beckons him over and points at pictures of tributes that she's managed to collect, each of them with their training score and her personal prediction of their death. It's a little frightening to see how she thinks: Mags has placed Keelan in position number six. But she's on his side. "Keelan, who are you aiming for in the bloodbath?"

He points at the pictures of the girl from Twelve and the girl from Five, nodding as he looks at their pictures. "I'll be aiming for the girl from Five, but if she escapes, the other one is next."

"And if things don't go to plan?" Mags presses, her lips pressed together tightly. Her silver hair shines in the light, and he notes how it highlights her fine features.

"I leave. No point in getting a kill if you die in the first place."

Mags nods in approval, gathering up the pictures. "Watch out for your allies as well. I don't trust the pair from One. Both seem… unhinged. Be careful of how much faith you put into your allies. One false move, and you all fall down."

Keelan agrees, picking up a knife and twirling it around on his fingers. Yes, One shall not be trusted.

He can only trust himself in this game.

 **Paxton Webb, 13, District Nine Male**

The elevator's going to be crowded by all of the other districts.

He's been stuck going out with the last few districts, Twelve and Eleven hurrying ahead of them as Dimmy managed to break her high heel. We stopped and waited as she hobbled along with us, waving us on as she attempted to keep up with Falcon's brisk pace. He wants to be further ahead, but he can't leave Falcon. He'll just get in trouble.

Another district flows to meet them, and Pax grins in happiness before realizing that it's _Five_ , of all districts. Their mentor slows down to greet Falcon, and they kiss before walking side by side. Both Pax and the boy from Five make retching sounds before grinning at each other, while the girls shake their heads at the younger boys and walk ahead. Maybe they aren't so bad. But he's not going to talk to Five. He's such an annoying little child.

Five slows down to let Pax catch up, but Pax runs ahead and towards Giovanna. She gasps in surprise as he squirms ahead of her, causing the girl from Five to growl. For a girl who's only five feet and two inches, she's awfully intimidating. He'll watch out for her in the arena.

The girl's pink dress brushes against him, and he can't help but utter a small cry of disgust as the itchy fabric brushes past his face. "Ick!"

The girl whirls around and growls, her eyes flashing in anger and hatred. "You're one of those people who would be greatly improved by death. Hope to kill you myself."

She spins around and walks away in a huff, her district partner hurrying to catch up to her. He stops at Pax, nodding apologetically. "She says a lot of stuff like that. You should just run."

Five leaves, the mentor giving Falcon one last squeeze before hurrying back to her tributes. Pax hates lovebirds. He just wants to go to his room, get his teddy bear, and go back to sleep. But the line stubbornly remains long, and it's a few minutes before he finally enters the giant glass machine along with District Twelve.

The girl watches him with angry eyes as the elevator rises through the building, scratching her neck and spitting on the ground as he departs to his floor with Giovanna. What is with everyone? Why do they all seem to hate him?

Maybe they just need something to direct their hate onto. But they'll see what happens in the Games. Oh, they'll find out what he's truly capable of.

He just has to get his bear and perform a little surgery.

 **Pepper Maywell, 16, District Eleven Female**

She scratches the side of her head as Cornelia comes out of her room in a nightgown, giving a thumbs up to her escort. "It fits perfectly!"

The escort beams, hugging both of her tributes tightly. "You are going to be _wonderful_ tomorrow! Remember, you did me proud."

The lone victor of Eleven nods as well, his fair skin glistening in the light along with his hundreds of freckles. Sean's been working to find sponsors for the pair ever since they reached the Capitol, searching endlessly for money for both of them. "You'll do well. Just remember you have to get something from the bloodbath, Pepper, while you should just run out of the bloodbath. No use in losing your life over a few supplies, but Pepper can hold her own in there."

The two nod, Pepper breathing in deeply as she looks towards the window. She doesn't want to die tomorrow. She just wants to survive the bloodbath.

Maybe she should run with Cornelia. It'd be much simpler, and perhaps a kind Capitolite will take pity on them and give them a sponsor gift. There's usually _something_ to find out in the arena, something that an intelligent tribute could use.

But she'll listen to Sean. He knows best, after all. He's one of only fifteen to make it out of the arena alive.

A sudden commotion occurs around a phone, and Sean picks it up and talks intently with the person on the phone. He suddenly hangs up, his blue eyes gleaming in the dark. "Vanilli, Pollux is suffering from a stroke."

"The grouchy man from Twelve?" Vanilli asks, flecks of glitter falling off of her hair. "Oh, thank Panem. He's such an annoyance."

"And Ashira's coming to mentor her tributes."

"What? The Twelve victor? _She's_ coming here? But I thought she had agreed to not mentor!"

"Plans have changed. Pepper, Cornelia, I've got to go and meet up with a few other victors. You two stay here, and just go to sleep or do what you need to do. I'll see you tomorrow." The adults leave the floor, talking to one another excitedly and hurrying to the elevator. She's alone with Cornelia.

Cornelia leaps onto the couch, grinning excitedly as she grabs a remote. "Want to watch a movie? I've never seen one. Are they good?"

"I haven't really had the chance to watch one either. We'll find out together." Pepper presses all of the buttons on the couch and watches the junk food fall to the ground, Cornelia taking some and pushing it into her mouth. They might as well enjoy themselves now. They'll be dead in a few hours anyway.

 **Ajax Hollix, 17, District Two Male**

He's seated on the floor of his apartment with Zora, talking strategy with little forks and knives representing tributes in the arena. Zora moves the four spoons representing the outer-district alliance to the side of the plate that's their cornucopia, pointing at the alliance. "If we get a chance, we'll eliminate as many of them as we can manage to do so. But we'll only do it if we have at least three fighting against them. We can't let them have the power of numbers. We've got to be _careful_."

"I know, Zora. Just focus on our goals. I'm going to be fine." He says that as much to reassure her as he does himself.

Bean decides to squirm out of his shirt at that moment, and Zora coos in delight as she picks up the confused turtle. "Who's a good girl? Who's a good girl?"

Ajax laughs and pats Bean, the little turtle sticking her head inside of the shell. "I hope she isn't too upset when I enter the arena. Caleb should be good with her… I hope."

"Hope she doesn't escape him. After all, the man's blind. Not that being blind is bad." Zora taps her bad eye meaningfully, smirking at Ajax. "She'll be just fine. Just make sure that she doesn't somehow get into the arena. We don't need a twenty-fourth death in there."

Ajax shudders, scooping up his turtle and clutching her tightly to his chest. "She's not going in. I'll bring her to Caleb right now."

Zora follows him as Ajax maneuvers the turtle through Clay's and Natalia's chess game, setting her in front of Caleb. "Do you have a terrarium for her? She likes having pools of water as well."

The blind victor chuckles deeply, feeling for the turtle before starting to stroke her shell. "I've got everything I need for little Bean here. You two focus on getting out alive."

Zora nods, pushing back her hair and taking a deep breath. "I better go to bed. Only so many hours before the Games officially begin. Can't go in there with no sleep!"

Caleb laughs, handing Bean back to Ajax. "I went in there with only a few winks, and look at me now!"

Ajax sets Bean down on the table, Natalia scooping her up before moving her knight into Clay's defenses. "I've got to go to bed as well. See you all tomorrow!"

The victors wave absently to Ajax before he vanishes into his room, closing the door and falling into his bed. He's going to sleep.

And when he wakes up, he'll be ready to fight for his very life.

 **Hollister Cuero, 14, District Eight Female**

She whimpers in her room, unable to sleep. She doesn't want to die tomorrow. She doesn't want to die.

But she's going to be tortured by some career in the bloodbath until she's dead, isn't she?

Her mind can't get off the topic of death right now. She's been awake for hours, just thinking of what it is to be dead and how her corpse is going to be displayed for all of Panem to see tomorrow morning. She doesn't want her death to be painful. She can't stand the thought of pain right now. If she does die, she wants it to be quick and merciful.

Maybe her Da is thinking of her right now, hoping that his little girl will come back to him. But he's more likely drowning his pain in alcohol, trying his best to forget the games before she dies on television. Whenever a child in Eight is reaped, bars open up instantly for the family members of the tributes. They're willing to lose a bit of profit to help ease the losses of the families. After all, the boy in the Third Games was the son of the man who owned the largest bar in Eight.

She turns in her bed, the soft down of the pillow unable to let her fall asleep. She hasn't been able to fall asleep all night. The rest of the floor is silent, a sure sign that they've all gone to bed. Maybe if she goes out to the main part of the apartment, it'll feel less foreign.

She tiptoes out of the room in the slippers that the Capitolites issued for every bedroom, stepping silently towards the room and peeking inside with caution. There is Tomas at the table, silently writing something out with a quick and able hand. Maybe he'll be able to quell her fears tonight.

But then the man starts to sob, hard, silent tears that splash onto the table and onto the floor. His body is wracked with sorrow as he cries, shaking his head and burying his face in his hands. Hollister backs away slowly, letting the victor suffer in silence. She doesn't need to disturb him. He's got enough demons tormenting him right now that he doesn't need any of hers.

She goes to bed and dreams of nothing for the rest of the night.

 **Isa James, 15, District Six Female**

Tony's drinking again.

She pounds on the door of her bathroom, screaming at Tony to get out, but all she can hear is the sound of him gulping something down and slurred sentences. Why is there _alcohol_ in her bathroom? And how did Tony manage to find it? He's an incurable alcoholic. Ah well, he could die tomorrow with a hangover. There's no rest for the wicked in the Hunger Games. "Let me in, doofus!"

"No!" is the childish reply, the sound of something slipping off of the counter and shattering onto the floor. Tony curses before taking another long sip, and Isa bites her tongue to stop herself from cursing. She's not even going to deal with this, this, this, _this cannon fodder_.

She turns away from the bathroom and groggily turns back to her bed, collapsing into the mess of pillows and blankets as she struggles to fall asleep. Why the fuck does Tony think it's a good idea to drink at three in the morning?

She better be able to survive the bloodbath. If not, it's all on his ratty little shoulders. Not that he could hold anything at this point after the alcohol he's been drinking. She'll have to step away from him and do it all by herself, like she always does.

He better die in the bloodbath tomorrow if there's any justice in the world.

She falls asleep rather quickly, waking up to the sun rising over the horizon. Somehow, she got blessed with a good sleep tonight. Thank Panem, she needs every piece of her mind that she can grab today. She's going to win the Hunger Games.

She jiggles the handle of the door, and, sure enough, it's still steadily locked. "Doug! Tony's stuck in the bathroom!"

Doug comes running and jiggles the lock before withdrawing a long pick from his sleeve, twisting it around in the lock until it clicks and opens the door to reveal a slumbering Tony. He looks up when the door opens, shielding his eyes from the light streaming into the tiny room. "Why is the sun in here?"

Doug shakes his head in regret, hauling Tony up to his feet and out of the bathroom. "I'm sorry, Tony."

Tony holds his head as he starts walking, shaking it firmly as he tries to remember. "My head… hurts… did I drink?"

"You drank yourself to death," Isa cuts in, smirking at the boy. Oh, he's dead tonight. He's not making it through the bloodbath in that state.

There _is_ justice in the world.

 **Nehemiah Bunting, 15, District Eight Male**

He brushes away his tears as he walks out of the floor with Holly, their escort leading them towards the elevator and piling in with the pair from Nine. They silently descend in the glass elevator, Hem seeing several tributes walking out of the building and towards the helicrafts ready to take them towards the arena.

Oh Panem, he's going to die today.

Holly shivers when she sees the pair from Four walk past them, the girl looking around at her surroundings with a cold gaze. Her red hair looks glossy today, obviously the result of conditioner and other care products in the apartments. Only the best for lambs heading off to the slaughter.

"Do you think the arena will be cold?" he whispers to his ally, Holly shaking her head firmly.

"They don't like watching cold arenas. Did you watch Falcon's Games?"

"I haven't watched many Games. Who's Falcon?"

"The victor from Nine." Holly turns towards the helicraft before hugging Hem, tears streaming down her face as she sobs in fear. "Oh, oh, I don't want to die."

He hugs her back, rocking back and forth in front of their escort and the rest of the tributes. They'll cry in peace right now.

That's the least the Capitol can allow them to do.

Holly lets go once an avox leads them into the helicraft, and brushes away her tears as she is strapped into her seat. Hem is next, and he shivers as he looks at the tall boy from Four sitting next to him. But the career doesn't notice him, looking for his allies and making hand signals to them instead. He doesn't care about tribute's who will die in the bloodbath until it's time to kill them off.

A few game makers - what are they doing here? - walk into the helicraft and grab tributes by the arm, sinking two needles into each of their arms. "Trackers," one whispers through clenched teeth as Hem gasps in surprise before moving on to the next tribute, letting the used needles drop into the bag of an intern. One with curly brown hair oversees it all, her face contorting in what seems to be nervousness as she talks quietly to other game makers.

Tomas said that they would get the trackers at the arena. Maybe they changed the procedures this year.

Or maybe they want to see the tributes one last time in person before they all die.

 **Mira Bevoire, 16, District Three Female**

She yelps in surprise as the needles sink into her arm before the game makers walk away with the needles, dropping the ones used on her into a bright yellow bag with hazard signs on it while continuing to do the same to the remaining. None of the tributes cry out except for a few, one the little boy from Nine and another the girl from Eight. The girl from Seven giggles when she's pricked by the needle, and soon the game makers converse with each other before leaving the helicraft. Then, they're up into the air and towards the arena, ready to fight to the death.

She doesn't want to fight today.

Maybe she'll run. She could run out of the bloodbath and towards safety in the arena, wherever it may be. That would be the smartest thing she could do. But if she does, she'll abandon her alliance. She doesn't want to hurt her allies, she needs them in the arena.

Her hat is comfortably on top of her head, and she pats it with reassurance as she watches the rest of the tributes gear up for the games. The careers are alternately whispering and yelling to one another, while other tributes seem nervous of them. Only the girl from Five seems oblivious of their banter, seemingly in a daze. If Mira didn't know better, she'd think that the girl's going to fall asleep. But no, no tribute would be this calm before the Games. They're all too hyped up on adrenaline to succumb to tiredness.

She looks out into the sky to see the clouds shine in the morning light, turning colours of gold and silver. She smiles at the sight, poking Shawn to look at them. "Aren't they nice?"

Shawn nods, pushing back his hair and yawning. "So, we're going to go get supplies while Wyatt gets the wire. Got it?"

"Got it." She nods and yawns as well, blinking her eyes as she tries to stay awake. Why is she so tired? The rest of the tributes seem tired as well, some of them falling asleep on the shoulders of others, who are at first annoyed, then tired as they succumb to the tiredness as well. She gasps, trying to stay awake. Is this what's in the tracker? Is there some soporific substance making them all fall asleep?

The girl from Six still seems alert, as well as the boy from Ten, but they'll likely fall asleep as well. At least they have the human decency to look worried for the rest of the tributes. Or maybe they're just realizing what's going to happen to them.

She soon drifts off, her eyes fluttering lazily before closing one last time. Why… is she… so tired?

And by the time she opens her eyes, she's next to the tube that will transport her to her death.

 **Marshall Furr, 16, District Ten Male**

He wakes up next to the tube, widening his eyes rapidly as he realizes that he's minutes away from the games. "What happened?"

The stylists shrug their heads as they outfit him quickly, zipping up the uniform and handing him the cow whistle that's his token. He fingers the silver object before tucking it under his undershirt, breathing in deeply and looking up to the tube. Almost time to go.

Can he trust his allies? He knows that Ryker's a good guy, but something's just… well, off with District Nine. The boy seems to be hiding something; he knows that the kid isn't that scared of the Games, and Giovanna's blinded by her role as a teacher or whatever she is to his secrets. He's not going let his guard down when the kid's around. Even he can be as deadly as a career if you give him a chance. The panicked ones are always the ones who fight the hardest.

"Good luck in the arena! Make sure to drink lots, and remember your edibles!" one of the stylists chirps, and the rest nod and cheer like little birds. Marshall nods and touches his hair, watching the stylists leave and let the lead stylist remain. They look at him firmly before shaking his hand, patting Marshall on the back. "You'll do fine."

Marshall nods, then jumps in surprise when a voice drifts into the room. "Please enter the tube in the next twenty seconds. This is a warning. Please enter the tube in the next twenty seconds. This is your final warning."

He steps into the glass tube and waves goodbye to the stylist, looking up at the top of the tube towards the arena. All he can see is light and the sounds of… birds? What could be up there?

At least it seems like it'll be warm. The thin uniform isn't built to protect his body from wind chills, and the short sleeves suggest that it'll be a warmer climate in the arena. With any luck, there'll be a few fields in there. He knows fields. Better than woods.

The tube starts to rise and he grits his teeth, readying himself for the arena. He can't slip up anytime soon. Only logic and strength will get a man through the arena, and he's going to make it.

And if he can't?

He won't think about that right now. He'll just close his eyes one last time, and prepare for the fight of his life. He might lose a piece of his heart in the process, but he's going to come back home.

He promises.

 **Another chapter! Surprised by the speed after the last one? You should be XDDDD kidding, I'm just very happy to finish this one! Tomorrow is the bloodbath, and that will be truly exciting. You guys ready to see who dies in the Games? Probably not yet, but I am! I wrote this chapter in less than a day so I could finally get there!**

 **I made good on my promise on three povs for each character, so now I can finally relax XDDD It might seem a bit rushed, but that's the way the cookie crumbles. The arena povs will be longer, I promise! Also, that was the serum doing its good work. You'll find out what it does next chapter ;)**

 **Any predictions for deaths tomorrow? I've still got the bloodbath poll open, but I'd love to hear what you guys have to think! Good luck to all of you submitters, and hope that I don't forget to upload the bloodbath tomorrow XDDD Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	29. Bloodbath: We All Fall Down

.

 **Isa James, 15, District Six Female**

She blinks as she stares up at the sky, staring back and forth at this, this _meadow_ that the cornucopia's been placed it. Dingy, dull green grass surrounds the platforms whilst high walls of thorn bushes trap the tributes inside of this battleground. She can see only one way out, a dirty little path that enters a tunnel and out into the arena. She's here. She's in the Hunger Games. And the sun is beaming down on her with all of its might. It's _hot_ in these clothes!

But she soon shivers when she sees the rest of the tributes rise up from the tubes and look towards the Cornucopia.

She swats at what might be a fly as the counter appears in front of the cornucopia, the loud, booming ticks starting to count down their final minute of peace as soon as the last tribute, the large boy from One, appears on his platform. She shakes her head in disbelief, putting her hands over her ears and quietly whimpering. Why is she here? What did she do that was so _wrong_ , so _cruel_ that she deserved to be thrown into this death match?

 _Nothing_ , a little voice whispers in the back of her head. _But not even you are safe from the Games_.

She doesn't know which is worse.

She takes in a deep breath and surveys her opponents, looking around to see whether it's safe for her to run in and get supplies or just run off. She's seen it done before, there's always been a few tributes who had ran away from the Cornucopia and off into the arena.

Of course, they had ran off to their death. But at least their deaths were hours after other tributes.

Did she have the courage to do the same?

She looks over at her side to see the boy from Five grinning weakly as he looks towards the Cornucopia, shaking his head nervously before gasping and poking at his eyes. He rubs them fiercely before yelling out into the air, followed by another scream from the other side of the cornucopia. By leaning to her right and peeking around the golden structure, she can see the girl from Eight doing the same thing. More screams follow from other tributes, all reacting to whatever's happening to them.

And then _she_ goes blind.

Isa doesn't realize what's happening to her eyes at first, blinking slowly to open her eyes again. But when she doesn't regain her sight, she gasps before almost stumbling. But she holds firm as she looks up for any sign of light. A James doesn't cry. She's stronger than the rest of these scum.

She waits for her sight to return, tapping her foot against the bottom of the pedestal before she realizes that it might cause an eruption. Guiltily, she stops, feeling down to the bottom for a good sitting position. She can't see anything. It feels like as if she's floating, even though she's not.

And even if she can't see it, if she leans a little too far to any side, she'll fall over the side.

Just like that, her vision returns to her, and she turns to see the counter turn from 39 to 38, the massive booms of the counter rocking through the arena. And they're having an effect on the rest of the tributes, causing all those who are blind to stumble around and scream out into the air, hoping against hope that they don't topple down into the mines.

She looks over to her side to see her district partner drunkenly move around his platform, shaking his head and wincing from the pain of what must be a hangover. She can't help herself from laughing at the boy, shaking her head in mock indignation. But as he holds his hands to his eyes, she turns away from Tony, looking towards the cornucopia. She's got to plan it out. Should she go for that backpack to the side of the cornucopia? She might as well get something, she has no chance in the arena without it. After all, the disaster that was the interviews won't help her with sponsors anytime soon. She has to choose.

And then Tony explodes.

 **Hollister Cuero, 14, District Eight Female**

She breathes another shaky breath as the sun streams down onto her pedestal, looking at the rest of the tributes with nervous eyes. She's so afraid. She's so afraid.

A piercing pain comes over her eyes, and she yells aloud as she tries to see what happened to the arena. Why is it so dark? Why can't she see anything? Why not?

Several shouts of similar discomfort come from tributes to her side, and she blinks her eyes to see if there's any difference. She's blind.

But why?

A massive booming sound begins counting down the minute before the Games start, the voice echoing throughout the meadow that she knows that they should still be in. But more voices start shouting at each other, screaming for help, for their allies. Why is this happening?

Another wave of slight pain comes again, and she looks at the golden metal of the cornucopia. She can see again. But others obviously can't, some huddling on their pedestals, rocking back and forth as they wait for the blindness to leave. Others scream and stumble around on their pedestals, causing her to suck in a sharp breath. Don't they realize that it's practically suicide to do so? Don't they realize that they have to stay still to not fall?

A cry of fear comes from her side, and Hollister turns to see the boy from Six trip and fall off of his pedestal. He falls slowly, fear written all over his face as he extends his arms towards the ground, instinctively trying to stop his fall.

A _massive_ explosion rocks Hollister on her pedestal, and the boy seems to vanish as his remains splatter all over the tributes surrounding him. A young girl screams - the girl from Ten? - as she's hit with his blood, shivering furiously and trying to brush it off. But then she stops, realizing that anything that falls off of her pedestal could end up setting off her own mines, and bites her lip as she stands still. Hollister gasps, looking at the girl bravely standing still, and turns away as she sees the blood covering her outfit. She can't stand it anymore.

A career's standing right next to her, and they look over at her with nervous, ecstatic eyes as they prepare to run. Hollister watches them prepare to run and turns back to the counter, staring at the numbers.

"28… 27… 26..."

She shivers, tears silently streaming down her cheeks and onto her shirt as she tries to stay still. Another scream comes from her side, and she watches the career to the right of her shake their head furiously as they try to get rid of the blindness. They're weak. _They're afraid_ , she realizes with a rush of nervous adrenaline, and she continues to stand still. She doesn't need to fall like the boy from Six. She's not going to die. She's not going to die.

But another spurt of blindness comes over her, and she screams as she sinks to the bottom of her pedestal. Why is it happening again? Why? Can't it just go _away_?

She feels cold now. It's almost as if she can't feel the sun, she can't feel it's light. Maybe it's just a breeze coming from the bushes that she knows are behind her, but she feels like she's in a different arena every time she goes blind. At least it's not only her. Having others suffering with her makes it feel a little better. She knows that it won't last forever. After all, the Game Makers can't keep them blind for the whole Games.

 _But what if they do?_

 **Ajax Hollis, 17, District Two Male**

He stumbles around his pedestal as he waits for this spurt of blindness to leave, shaking his head furiously. Why is it happening now, so close to the gong ringing? He can't fight like this!

Taffeta's right. None of them stand a chance.

But just as quickly as it comes, the blindness leaves him, and he blinks to see the counter ticking down in front of him, the gargantuan numbers flashing in front of the golden metal of the cornucopia.

"9… 8… 7..."

He's got no time to think. He has to go run, run and hope he can get a weapon before he's caught by this blindness. It's the only chance he'll have. He can't think about the fact that he's not even supposed to be here, that he had been randomly chosen to volunteer after those other guys fell sick, that he's not truly prepared for the Hunger Games, that he's going to die if he's not careful. All he needs to do is move.

The gong goes off - and oh he's going to die isn't he - Ajax rushes off of his pedestal and towards the cornucopia.

But then he stops and looks back at the girl from Eight, who's struck with horror as what seems to be a spout of blindness comes over her. Zora approaches her slowly, already holding a sword and ready to kill. But Ajax shakes his head and runs towards the girl, Zora nodding and running towards the cornucopia. There's killing to be done now.

Ajax leaps onto the pedestal and leans down to the girl, currently sobbing into her shirt as she hears him approach. "Ple-please - make it qu-quick."

"I will," he whispers, and quickly grabs her neck, his hands twisting her spine until he hears the snap. The girl crumbles down on the ground, a glazed look over her eyes, and he knows that she's dead. It was painless. He hadn't studied how to kill silently for nothing last year.

But she's dead and there's no time to waste, so he sprints to the cornucopia and pushes a screaming boy out of the way to grab daggers. They aren't a pair - a shame - but they'll have to do.

He stabs at the boy, causing him to reel away with a deep gash on his arm. But Ajax won't stick around to fight anymore. He's got to go find the rest of the careers.

He can see Zora fighting with the boy from Eight, viciously slicing his sides and legs with a pair of swords before sticking one through his heart. But she's too far away right now to get to, not with this blindness-thing. Keelan's the better bet right now.

Keelan's busy fighting with the girl from Seven, viciously slicing a spear around her as she ducks and weaves before running with the small pack that she's collected. Keelan curses and turns around before yelling out, covering his eyes and shaking his head furiously. He must be blind right now.

Ajax throws his dagger at the girl from Five as she approaches Keelan, who curses and runs off after wrenching it out of her leg. Ajax breathes a sigh of relief and helps Keelan up, putting him by the metal cornucopia. "Stay here."

Keelan nods and waits for the blindness to leave, waving his spear around in case anyone creeps up on him. Ajax breathes a sigh of relief before watching his vision leave him once more, leaving him blind. He stumbles back to Keelan, holding his daggers tightly. "Don't hit me! Don't hit me!"

Keelan helps him to his feet, the air turning cooler as they seemingly head into the cornucopia. "I'm good now. The spurts are getting shorter and further in-between."

Ajax nods, sitting down on what seems to be a crate. "Hopefully they'll finish soon."

Keelan suddenly yells, running away from Ajax and attacking another tribute. Ajax cringes and holds his daggers up, waving them anxiously at the air until Keelan comes back. "Boy from Five. He's taken care of."

Ajax blinks, looking up at Keelan's face as his vision returns. "Got it. I'm ready to go."

 **Paxton Webb, 13, District Nine Male**

He had sprinted to the bottom of the meadow at the start of the bloodbath, racing anxiously to the little exit through the thick thorn bushes surrounding the tributes. The girl from Six is already ahead of him, surprisingly able to sprint through the tunnel with a backpack and little else before he reaches it. It's their only way out.

And that'll be just fine.

A wave of blindness comes over him - his second one so far - and he yells in anger as the thorns scratch at his face. He covers his eyes with his teddy bear before lowering it abruptly, tucking the bear to his side. He can't risk any injuries, especially with the bear. The bear's too dangerous.

He smirks when sight returns, hurrying through the opening towards the light at the end of this thorny tunnel. He's going to make it to the other side. And he does, gazing at the vast expanses of fields covered with amber wheat, ears of golden corn, everything that you could find in Nine and Eleven. On the edge of the field, he can see a large river and a red barn on the edge of the water, the vast structure almost blocking out the thick, gnarled trees behind it. But that dark forest is too large for the barn to conceal, and Pax can see the dark line of trees extend through the length of the arena.

But he's not in District Nine, is he now?

He turns back and patiently waits for tributes to run through the tunnel, holding his teddy bear up and clicking its eye. A switchblade pops out of the bear's stomach and Pax smiles, readying the blade. Mom and Dad would never let their little angel go into the Hunger Games without protection.

But now they'll see that their little boy is less than angelic. He's demonic.

The boy from Eleven - wait, the girl? - runs out of the tunnel with a panicked look on their face, and Pax steps out and stabs the switchblade into their neck before they even realize what's happened. They fall to the ground with a scream, shuddering as blood stains their outfit before lying still. Pax smirks, turning away from his first victim and to the next. He's ready to spill more blood.

He waits patiently, sitting down in the grass and waiting at the edge of the wheat fields for the next tribute to hurry through the tunnel. They'll all have to come through eventually. Maybe a few will get past him, but whoever's decided to run away from the bloodbath will have to face him. And he's not going down without a fight.

He hears another tribute running through the tunnel, their feet hitting against the dark, rich soil as they race towards the exit. Perfect.

He stands close to the exit of the tunnel, holding the bear to stab the tribute. Closer… closer…

Giovanna bursts out of the tunnel with a spear and a backpack, smiling when she sees Pax. "I've found you! We better hurry and find the others, the careers are starting to finish up in there. Come on! We've got to move, Pax!"

But then a dazed look comes over Giovanna, and she shakes her head violently. "I've lost my vision. Could you help me?"

Pax laughs, stepping closer to his district partner. She won't suspect a thing. And if he can stab her in the neck, she'll have no chance at all.

But Giovanna moves to the right as he stabs at her, and she yells out in pain as the switchblade scrapes down her arm. She whirls her spear around and smashes it into Pax, sending him flying into the wheat. "What was that for?"

He peeks out and she's still turning around madly, feeling out with her hand for him. She's still blind. And if he can creep up on her, he can take her supplies. He can see some food in her backpack. It would be good to have some food.

He steps towards her, the teddy bear discarded on the ground in favour of just the switchblade. She turns around but doesn't seem to notice him, her wide eyes searching around. He's going to kill her.

Giovanna stabs the spear into his chest, sending Pax straight into the ground as he starts to choke on blood pouring through his throat and up into his mouth. "I see you this time."

She grabs her spear and pulls it out, watching Pax fade away as blood gushes out of his wound and into the amber wheat. But she leaves before he dies, walking away into his fading vision. He must be going blind again.

 _Then why can't he feel pain anymore?_

 **Ryker Underwood, 18, District Seven Male**

He runs through the bloodbath for the ax in front of him, scooping it up and slashing at the girl in front of him. She yelps aloud and crumbles to the ground, her dark hair being stained by the blood pouring out of her skull.

He winces and turns away from the ugly wound, running towards a backpack. He's almost there…

But another boy reaches it first, tugging fiercely at the strap and narrowing his eyes as Ryker grabs the other strap. The two pull as hard as they can, Ryker straining to fight the weight of the other boy. But he lets go, letting the other guy crash into the grass with the backpack. Ryker picks up his ax, walking towards the boy and raising his ax.

"Ryker! Ryker, it's me!"

Ryker blinks and sees _Marshall_ with the backpack, a strange look on his face. "You okay?"

Ryker nods, his brown hair waving in the wind as he turns towards the opening at the bottom of the meadow. "Yep, I'm totally fine. We should go."

Marshall agrees, nervously tugging at the back of his shirt. "Let's move fast. I don't want to go blind again."

Ryker cocks his head to the side, staring at Marshall curiously. "Blind?"

Marshall opens his eyes in awe, starting to jog down the slope to the row of thorns. "You haven't gone blind yet? I've had it happen to me twice so far. I think it's from the needle we all had to get. You _did_ get it, right?"

Ryker nods, feeling the sore spot where the needle had sunk into his arm. "Next to my tracker. Maybe it's different for everyone."

Marshall shrugs, reaching the row of bushes and walking through the bushes. "Guess you're lucky for now."

But he's not.

Ryker stumbles as his vision leaves abruptly, putting his hands out as he falls into the dirt. He's blind. He's blind. He's blind.

Oh Panem, he's blind!

Seven always took every precaution in order to prevent blindness. When you worked with lumber, any splinter that flew off from the tree could easily go into your eye. Lumberjacks always wore safety glasses. _Always_. Being blind was out of the question there.

But here he is, with no vision to speak of whatsoever.

He turns around and puts his hand out, yelping out when he feels a sharp pain in his hand. He's been pierced by those damn thorns.

But he's stronger than a few thorns.

He grits his teeth and pushes away from the thorns, stepping back into the tunnel. Marshall sucks in his breath and turns around, and Ryker feels the worry radiating from his ally as he drops into a defensive position, his ax in front of him. He can hear a scream, a yelp from a boy, and then he can see the girl from Three lying prone on the ground, her district partner having already escaped through the tunnel and into the light. Marshall's standing in front of the girl, a spear stuck in her side. He wrenches it out and tosses it away, reaching for the arrows that he had collected from the bloodbath. "Killed her. Missed the boy."

Ryker turns back to see the boy vanished, having already escaped to wherever the arena leads. "Guess we won't be getting him anytime soon."

Marshall shrugs, jogging through the tunnel and into the light. "But we better hurry. The bloodbath won't last forever."

Ryker looks back towards the bloodbath, a lone figure hurrying down towards them with an armful of backpacks and weapons. "Who's that?"

Marshall squints towards the person, putting his hands over his eyes before he recognizes the tribute. "It's Aris. What should we do?"

Ryker spots food in Aris' bundle, as well as what promises to be a large stash of weapons and food. "I _did_ say something about allying with her, and she's somewhat strong. I know she was the butcher's daughter in her town. Not that I knew her, she just mentioned it a lot."

Marshall nods, stepping towards the tunnel. "Then we should wait for her to hurry up and accept her. I don't think that she'll freak out and snap on us. And if she does..."

Ryker nods. If she attacks them, there's no doubt that she'll die first.

Aris hurries towards the tunnel before tripping, her supplies flying through the air and towards Ryker. He bends down and picks a few of the packages up, handing them back to the surprised girl. "Allies?"

Aris grins in relief, taking a few of the packages and letting Ryker hold the rest. "Allies. You won't believe what's happening in the bloodbath. I think we're losing a few strong tributes today!"

Marshall winces, putting his hands over his eyes and rubbing them anxiously. "I'm blind. Guide me out of here and towards wherever the arena leads. Better than getting trapped by any psycho careers."

Ryker grabs Marshall by the arm and leads him out of the tunnel, Aris hurrying ahead of them. "Oh, it's beautiful!"

Ryker squints to see huge expanses of amber grain, stalks of wheat swaying gently in the breeze. He can see a small house in the distance, right in the middle of what looks to be… a _river_? "Let's walk along the edge of the grain. We don't want to leave any trails in there unless we absolutely need to."

Marshall nods, stumbling over a root before Ryker helps the boy back up. "Yes, wheat and long grass leave easy trails for others to find. Right now, let's focus on getting to the edge of wherever it leads. Then we can walk through it on the side. You can let go of me now, Ryker."

Ryker lets Marshall go, and the dark boy from Ten leads the way between the thorn bushes and the fields of wheat. "I can see corn in the distance. If we're careful, we could get some for tonight."

Aris nods, patting one of her backpacks. "And if we do, we'll feast like Capitolites tonight."

 **Luxx Mortem, 18, District One Male**

He swings the spear that he grabbed from the bloodbath around his head, trying to stab someone, anyone that he can manage to overtake. He's got to get a kill. A career without a kill can be a laughingstock in the bloodbath, especially when they're from _One_ , the career district with only one victor.

He knows what they all say about One. _A place for gems, sans brains_ , says Three when the boy from One gets electrocuted in Kaitlynn's Games. _Glitter and precious little else,_ says Two when the final two between Natalia and the girl from Two leads to Natalia stepping over the stunning girl's corpse. _Where is the district loyalty?_ asks Four when the boy from One abandons his partner in the Ninth Games.

They don't know that One is the most cunning of them all. And he'll prove it, no matter what his parents, his instructor, his district partner, even his _brother_ might say.

The girl from Five slams her mace into the throat of the girl from Eleven, sending the tribute into the metal of the cornucopia, her corpse bruised by the impact. He stabs at the girl from Five before falling away, his eyes having gone blind once more. It had happened once in the countdown, but he had bet his whole attack in the bloodbath on the hope that he wouldn't go blind until he got a kill. And now he's dead meat.

He stumbles away with his spear in front of him, swinging it in the hopes that it hits anyone who attacks him. But as the noises of the bloodbath grow fainter, he realizes he might have avoided them altogether. He's away from the bloodbath.

He stumbles over what might be a pedestal and throws his hands out in front of him, the spear sticking in the ground and jabbing him in the stomach as he hurdles over the weapon. Tumbling down the steep hill, he finally jars to a halt when he crashes into the thorn bushes at the bottom of the hill.

Fuck.

He stands up slowly and feels for his eyes, opening them to see the bloodbath still continuing at the top of the hill. He's fallen to the bottom.

But is that such a bad thing?

He grimaces as he starts to jog up the hill and back to the melee, rubbing the spot where the spear had caught him. It feels bruised, maybe enough to have done something to the ribcage. Maybe he's being paranoid.

But being paranoid in the Hunger Games is sometimes the only way to win.

He grabs the spear and starts to run towards one of the girls fighting who seems to be Zora, ignoring the tributes sprinting down the hill and towards the tunnel. He doesn't have the time to deal with cowards right now. He's got to move!

He attacks the girl from Five from behind, throwing his spear through the air and towards her back. But she moves to the right before it stabs his, catching her in the shoulder instead. She swears angrily and reaches for the spear, trying to tug it out in vain. That's when he attacks again.

The bloodstained spear falls to the side as the girl from Five finally wrenches it out of her back, but she doesn't see Luxx running at her until he launches himself through the air and towards her eyes. He isn't fighting like the way District One should. He's fighting dirty, like an _outlier_. But why shouldn't he use tactics that'll win him his life?

He leaves bloody scrapes down her face as he grabs her raven-black hair, yanking a handful out of her scalp. She yells and slaps him, the sting of the blow sending him reeling away. The girl grabs her mace and runs away, leaving him running after her. He's going to get that tiny little girl and finally get a kill.

But then he faceplants into the ground, his chin stinging with the force of the fall. He's been tripped.

The tribute bends down towards him, their voice barely more than a whisper. "You know, none of the other tributes will notice, especially the careers. You're all alone, Luxx."

He gasps, trying to push up against Taffeta and towards freedom. But she's pinning him down and bringing out her weapon, turning it towards Luxx. He can hear the grin on her voice as she speaks again, it's practically _dripping_ with satisfaction. "Maybe you should have stayed home and let Vexx play this game. Because you just lost, _bitch_."

He doesn't hear his own cannon. But he hears himself scream.

 **Ashrifah Keyaut, 16, District Five Female**

She turns around just as the girl from One stabs her own partner, grinning with a hint of malice on her smile. It's good that he's gone. Her scalp still aches from his attack. And his death means that there are only so many tributes left before she can win the Games and go home.

 _Go home_. It sounds simple, as if going back home a victor will fix everything. But what really needed to be fixed in the first place?

She turns and dodges as the girl from Four stabs at her neck with the golden trident in her arms, missing Ashrifah by inches. Ashrifah laughs coldly and pounces with her mace, hitting the girl on the side of her right leg. The girl yells and leaps away, the raw skin on her leg starting to ooze warm red blood. It drips down onto her shoe and into the ground, mixing with the dust to create a sticky, reddish-brown mud.

Ashrifah swings again, missing as the girl ducks and punches her sharply in the stomach. Ashrifah doubles back, clutching her stomach and yelling in rage. But the girl doesn't stop, leaping at her and hitting her in the nose before jumping away to grab her trident.

She slowly feels her own nose, letting her hand fall away to reveal the coat of blood starting to dry to its palm. The girl's spilled Ashrifah's blood. _Her_ blood. Her rage starts to grow, erupting when the girl comes back and stabs back at Ashrifah. She doesn't even feel the prong enter her leg. All she feels is a cold anger filling her until she snaps.

The mace spirals through the air and slams into the girl's side, causing the girl to scream in pain and grab her ribs. Judging by the blood seeping through her outfit, Ashrifah's done some damage. But the girl doesn't pause for an instant, attacking again and grabbing her mace to swing over and over into the girl's chest. Then she starts to hit the girl's head, the mace smashing into the nose cartilage and through the skull. But she doesn't stop, blindly screaming in rage as she continues to hit the girl. She doesn't know if she's gone blind or if she's still attacking.

But then her vision seems to clear and she looks down in horror at the destroyed face of the career, struggling not to vomit as she glimpses at the shattered skull and the…

But a glimpse is all she takes before she runs out, away from the bloodbath. She can see the careers, the only other tributes left here, starting to run after her, but she's faster than them. She'll get away. She always does.

She runs down the hill, dodging when she hears the whistle of an arrow pass by her and harmlessly into the ground as she continues to sprint. Then a cry of pain rings through the air, and she glimpses behind her to see the careers having paused to help out the girl from Two. She must have gone blind.

All the better for Ashrifah.

She races through the tunnel and into the bright light, not pausing for even an instant to look around before she plunges into the amber wheat. Only when she runs for a minute she dares to stop, falling down to her side and heaving for breath. She killed. No, she didn't kill, she _destroyed_ a girl. She's undoubtedly put a target on her own back.

But she doesn't feel sick anymore. All she can feel is something that she might even call…

 _Triumph._

 **Shawn Andersen, 14, District Three Male**

He hurries through the wheat field, away from everyone in the bloodbath, everything that he's lost. He's got nothing. Nothing except the wire that Wyatt had _died_ getting for them, that Shawn had grabbed off of his body before fleeing through the bloodbath and away to the tunnel, not even stopping when Mira was killed, and a small green backpack that he had found to the side of his pedestal.

But it's not the fact that he's got little supplies that are making him cry. It's because he's lost his only two allies in the arena because he was too much of a _coward_ to stop and help them.

Coward. What an ugly sounding word. It makes him feel small, knowing that he's not the spy that he was hoping to be, the perfect rebel that would bring down the system and destroy the Capitol. He's just a lost, confused little boy trying to save his life with a huge coil of wire and a small green backpack. He doesn't deserve to escape the arena. No _cowardly_ rebel deserves to be able to escape the Games when escape was won at such a great cause.

Why did he think he could ever manage to do something as great as escape the Capitol? And if he did, where would he go? He was stupid to think it up in the first place. It had sounded great in the training rooms with Mira and Wyatt, the perfect idea for the perfect escape, but now the plan sounds dull, bland. How can he remember to build the coil under such pressure? How can they even manage to get all of the supplies they need for the coil? There's no point. There's no way he's going to pull it off.

But he can still remember the plan. It's imprinted into his memories, there's no way he _can't_ remember it.

Maybe he just needs to regroup his thoughts.

His parents always rethought out plans whenever they reached a dead end. If they couldn't figure out how to pull off even one portion of the plan, they'd look for another option. A rebel can't have a plan that has too many ways to fail. That leaves room for plans to fail. And when there's a chance for them to fail, plans always will.

He'll start with his backpack. He hasn't even opened the small green pack, only having shrugged it onto his thin shoulders before he had run to get the wire that Wyatt had in his arms. That Wyatt had _died_ holding in the palm of his hand.

No, he can't think of that. He can only focus on the present right now. The past is too painful to even think of right now.

He stops running and crouches down in the shoulder-length stalks of wheat, looking behind him to see if anyone's pursued him. He can't see, much less hear anyone right now. He's all alone.

He zips open the pack and carefully brings the first item out, looking in awe at what seems to be… a capacitor for the Tesla coil?

No, it can be. The game makers would never put such a thing into his backpack, especially if they even had a thought that he might be planning an escape.

Unless the one who found out was the rebel mole.

He pulls out another wire, then a base for the coil, and finally a huge battery that evidently is the energy for the coil. And right below the sticker on the battery is a little note. He squints to see the writing on the note, his eyes straining to read the small print.

 _Now build._

They _do_ know. And they're going to help him.

He stands up and puts his hands to the sky, saluting the rebels for their help in this. He doesn't know exactly _who_ wants him to succeed, but _someone_ does. And that's all he needs right now. He smiles and packs up the rest of the items, putting them carefully back into his backpack. Suddenly, the green fabric feels that much more valuable to him. It's not just a backpack, it's carrying his chance to escape the game makers and prove that the rebels are still strong.

A tear trickles down his cheek as he hears the first cannons in the wind, each boom resonating with his heart. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, _eleven_ cannons ring into the air before the arena falls silent once more. Eleven deaths. It's standard for the bloodbath, but the sounds hurt that much more now that he knows that Mira and Wyatt are two of them. He'll escape for them. He _has_ to. He won't let himself get scared by the arena, only shrugging it off as he continues to live for his friends. He'll promise himself that.

That promise is broken as soon as the boy from Twelve, Bernard, appears in the stalks of wheat. The boy has a knife.

And he looks angry.

 **Blood has been shed today. This story will never be the same. And by the time the finale finishes, one of our remaining tributes will be a victor, forever broken.**

 **But it's three updates in a row yassssssssssss!**

 **I got to the bloodbath! Eeee! Albeit a rewrite of it this September when I tried to create it in June, (Don't ask) I think this version was good! I liked the twist, the writing felt smooth to me, and it was over 6K in story content itself! Score!**

 **I am very happy that I finally managed to make it this far, especially considering the fact that I went MIA on this story for two months and over b/c I was working all summer and had writer's block. It sucked lol, but I'm still here! I didn't give up! And maybe I can finish this SYOT before 2019 ;) Just so you guys know, I was never giving up on this story, just trying to survive the summer. And I did, so now I get to navigate through school! (and that's _SUCH_ fun, you know XDDD)**

 **Now we're at the top thirteen, and if anyone is peeved over the fact that I killed so many tributes, consider the fact that, one, large bloodbaths are canon, and two, it is my story and I can do what I want with it. I'm not dodging around deaths, and I'm also digging the fact that I get to work with some great tributes for the arena! Before I go into the obituaries, I just want to say that I thoroughly enjoyed all of these tributes. Thanks so much for all of them guys, and I'm looking forward to revealing our victor! (In like twelve or more chapters lol) Also, the deaths might seem a little disjointed with the flow of the povs, but this is what happened** _ **chronologically**_ **, while the povs were not necessarily one after the other in time.**

 **24th: Tony Dongalls, District Six Male; killed by mines. Created by 66samvr.**

I really liked Tony, as did a lot of you readers. He was a bit of an underdog, someone who could have been shaped into a person who overrides his struggles to become a formidable tribute, even a victor. However, I somewhat struggled writing his sarcastic and cynical outlook on others, and I couldn't really relate with him in his povs. In the end, it was popping the bottle that did him in, causing him to have a hangover in the bloodbath. And that, my friends, is not what you want to have in the bloodbath. I think he is a very big surprise death, especially since he topped one of the polls I held for favourite characters! 66samvr, I hope you enjoyed him, and you still have Isa! Hooray! (And sorry for killing a legitimately good character)

 **23rd: Hollister Cuero, District Eight Female; killed by Ajax Hollis. Created by Kealimepie.**

Holly was a sweet girl. She had a bit of fire, which I used in the riot of Eight and other parts of the story, but she mostly was a girl who was afraid of the Games, but pushed past it to attempt to help others, including Hem. When I received her, I was intrigued by her, and I liked pairing her up with Hem in training. I don't regret making that cinnamon roll alliance, and I'm sorry to see her go. Kealimepie, I have no idea if you're reading this (probably not lol) but if you are, thanks for Holly.

 **22nd: Nehemiah Bunting, District Eight Female; killed by Zora Stikander. Created by Elim9.**

Elim9, when I received your forms along with Lincoln, I was astounded at how much detail could be put into characters. When I had started this story, my characters had three sentence personalities, and don't even get me started on backstory! It's safe to say that all of your characters really surprised me and made me very, very happy. Hem wasn't my favourite of your characters, but I liked his sweet attitude and how he just wanted to help people. Pairing him up with Holly seemed simple! But when I got to planning the bloodbath, I had to choose between letting cinnamon rolls move on and having a small bloodbath, or sucking it up and killing off some of my well-loved characters. So we lost Nehemiah, and thank you very much for an amazing character! Good luck to your remaining two ;)

 **21st: Wyatt Blink-Box, District Five Male; killed by Keelan Spinnaker. Created by iridescenteverdeen.**

Wyatt… was made to be a bloodbath death, and a bloodbath death he became. He was actually a character I really enjoyed writing, with his nerdy and annoying persona and the way he was so curious with everything. But I did really like him! He was a fun guy who seemed like he could work well with an alliance, and Shawn immediately singled him out as someone to work with, as evidenced by the Tesla coil scene and the way he ran for the coil in the bloodbath. Unfortunately, he was killed, but he did better than his predicted placement! iridescenteverdeen, I hope you enjoyed him if you're still around, and I just want to let you know his interactions with Shawn will fuel some major subplot ;))

 **20th: Cornelia Fields, District Eleven 'Male'; killed by Paxton Webb. Created by AmericanPi.**

Cornelia, Cornelia, Cornelia. I feel like I kind of let her down by killing you in the bloodbath. Cornelia could have gone further, yet her strength just wasn't big enough to beat Pax! She was a fun character, especially with a lot of her personality being tied up with her gender identity - maybe a little too much. I really liked that Cornelia was a dreamer and creative, and the fact that she were selfish - a part of her that might have slipped past a lot of you. In the end, I feel as if you slipped past a lot of us without much impact except towards the end, and I did struggle to write you. Pi, I hope that you're okay with this placement, and thank you for two amazing characters!

 **19th: Carol Farrier, District Ten Female; killed by Ryker Underwood. Created by Elim9.**

Carol was actually one of my favourite characters in this story! I really loved how she was strong and didn't like change, and in general was a really good example of a stolid younger tribute. She started out strong with her intro, and I had a lot of high hopes for her in training, but the way she somewhat clashed with Marshall and how she didn't get much interaction with the other characters in training sabotaged her chances a bit. However, I really enjoyed her, and before this write of the bloodbath, had planned her to be moving on into the arena. However, I had reconsiderations with other characters moving on and others being bloodbath victims, making Carol one of the casualties of the rewrites. Elim9, thanks for a great character who I wish could have gone a bit further.

 **18th: Paxton Webb, District Nine Male; killed by Giovanna Fillinfini. Created by District9Tribute**

Pax was a great example of a younger villain. Cocky, smart, and full of himself, the boy was a bit of a powerhouse throughout training, although he seemed quite the opposite to the Capitol with the melancholic persona he displayed them. I enjoyed him, and the twist of his token being a hidden weapon was amazing! He's the reason that we now have screening for tokens in my universe, and he really shaped a lot of relationships, including the largest outlier alliance in the arena. Because of his betrayal, Giovanna has left the alliance out of worry and hid in the arena, and we lost one of the great villains in this arena. District9Tribute, thanks for a great villain.

 **17th: Pepper Maywell, District Eleven Female; killed by Ashrifah Keyaut. Created by iridescenteverdeen.**

Pepper was sweet, yet kind of fell under the radar due to two factors: she wasn't that exciting of a tribute, being overshadowed by flashier characters and Cornelia's reveal, and I failed to execute her better sides properly, relying more on her maternal instincts rather than her down-to-earth personality. She was fun to write for me, but she felt like a bit of a filler character in my eyes. And filler characters generally die in the bloodbath. Her big mistake was going for an item she thought she could get and being distracted by Ashrifah, who killed her rather quickly when you think about it. I hope that you, iridescenteverdeen, are okay with how she turned out, and thanks for being willing to sub to this story, although you may be gone by now :)

 **16th: Mira Bevoire, District Three Female; killed by Marshall Furr. Created by 66samvr**

Mira was originally one of my picks for victor, no lie. She had a great personality that meshed well with other characters, and the fact that she was a magician was just really cool! I found her very unique and fun as a character, and I loved writing her. However, Shawn's alliance needed some shaking up, and the way Marshall's alliance met up with them left her dead. Mira was a great girl, and I'm sad that I can't expand her arc, which now feels a little cut short to me. 66samvr, sorry for killing another great character! I feel really really really really really bad that I'm killing her, but that was how the tributes would meet up in the bloodbath, and Mira got the short end of the straw. Hopefully, Isa can make it further! You'll have to rely on our lovely girl from Six from now on, which is a little… well, disturbing to say the least O.O

 **15th: Luxx Mortem, District One Male; killed by Taffeta Paisley. Created by TheBestGemini**

Luxx was one of our big villains. He was a nice guy turned evil, corrupted by his jealousy towards his brother and the fact that he just wanted to impress his districts. Being cast out of the family due to his attacks didn't help him, thus he volunteered for the Games under the guise of Vexx. I enjoyed having him mesh and clash with the careers, specifically his dynamic with Taffeta. I feel that the pair from One fighting each other is a bit cliche, but I did like their rivalry! It ended due to the fact that Taffeta managed to surprise him, and I feel like her last words to him were pretty great ;) TheBestGemini, I hope you enjoyed your character's arc if you're still around, and cheer on Aris!

 **14th: Monique Rivera, District Four Female; killed by Ashrifah Keyaut. Created by Foxfaceisthebest**

Monique, the second career death and definitely the most gory of the whole bloodbath, to say the least. She was a great character who's dynamic with a brother as victor was a bit Mary-Sueish, but I feel like she overcame that with her personality. I did enjoy writing her into this story, and had a lot of plans for her at the start, but they all started to fizzle into nothing by the train rides. She was another character who was somewhat overlooked, but I think that her death was a surprise, especially with how gory it was. Due to that, the career pack will be reeling in surprise - and looking for both blood and allies. Foxfaceisthebest, I know that you're gone, but I hope you enjoyed Monique if you ever look at this! She was a fun character, and I think that she could have gone further if it wasn't for Ashrifah.

 **And that's all of the bloodbath! I won't start the sponsoring until NEXT chapter, so be prepared for that to happen, with the current sponsor points being shown in that one so that we're all on the same page! I'm very excited to get into the arena, and I hope that you guys are all excited and prepared for a great Hunger Games!**

 **KILL COUNT**

(Italicized are deceased tributes)

Taffeta Paisley, District One Female - 1 Kill  
Zora Stikander, District Two Female - 1 Kill  
Ajax Hollis, District Two Male - 1 Kill  
Keelan Spinnaker, District Four Male - 1 Kill  
Ashrifah Keyaut, District Five Female - 2 Kills  
Ryker Underwood, District Seven Male - 1 Kill  
 _Paxton Webb, District Nine Male - 1 Kill_  
Giovanna Fillinfini, District Nine Female - 1 Kill  
Marshall Furr, District Ten Male - 1 Kill  
Arena - 1 Kill

 **DISTRICT PLACEMENTS**

District One  
District Two  
District Three  
District Four  
District Five  
District Six  
District Seven  
District Nine  
District Ten  
District Twelve  
11th: District Eleven  
12th: District Eight

 **Here are the alliances, so that we're all on the same page ;)**

Careers: Taffeta, Zora, Ajax, Keelan

We've got backpacks!™: Aris, Marshall, Ryker

Loners: Shawn, Ashrifah, Isa, Giovanna, Moon, Bernard

The Dead: Lincoln, Tony, Hollister, Nehemiah, Wyatt, Cornelia, Carol, Paxton, Pepper, Mira, Luxx, Monique

 **And we're off to the races! What was the saddest death? Who do you think will die next? Predictions for victor? Review your thoughts, and hope you liked the chapter! Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	30. A Return

**Selena Arthtome, 27, Assistant Gamemaker**

She hates sponsors.

The men and women lining the room are all avid viewers of the Games, their stacks of sesterces just waiting to be thrown at the tributes, but they ask the most _idiotic_ questions! At least they only have a few more sessions to go. Most Capitolites can line up at the sponsorship booths and send in money to their favourite tributes, but these sponsors have paid bonuses to see _exactly_ how they'll be influencing the Games.

 _Remember, you're not going to piss off sponsors as you help me speak to the crowd,_ Hiram had warned her as she prepared his notes for the speeches. _Lots of sponsors, lots of money, more funding for the Games next year. A tenth of all sponsor money goes to us, you know._

Yes, she does know that. But this old hag must be at the top of the pile of senile. Either that or Mrs. Caldron must be a seasoned expert at causing disturbances.

Panem, she needs coffee right now.

The old woman raises her creamy, smooth hand - she's obviously managed to keep up with her plastic surgery through all of these years - as Hiram delves into how prices for items would rise steadily as the Games go on. "Excuse me, but would one be able to send items, say, such as a drop of water, as a sponsor gift?"

Hiram looks down at the woman and stares curiously at her, clearing his throat loudly as he looks back down at his notes. "Yes, but why would a sponsor want to send a single drop of water to a tribute? To taunt them?"

A small ripple of laughter drifts through the room, and Silveria Caldron smiles proudly. "Oh, and would sprinkles be covered under the same standards?"

"Ye-yes," Hiram says, his brow furrowing in annoyance. "Now, how about we move onto more serious matters? I believe that we're still focusing on how you will be able to pool your sesterces into a larger amount of money so that you can work together to buy larger items for tributes. Remember, _you_ are the ones influencing the Games. A well-placed sponsor gift can save a tribute from death, perhaps even grant them victory. Choose how you spend your money _wisely_."

The Head Gamemaker looks down sternly at Mrs. Caldron, and she returns his gaze with ease. Hiram turns away abruptly and walks out of the room, sponsors trickling out of the large quickly, some taking out bags of money and bank cards to prepare to pay for the first few sponsor gifts. They're fine with paying this much money to help out tributes, their efforts will be rewarded in the sponsor's banquet, a special banquet after the victor is crowned. The sponsor's banquet is full of secrets that the public would die to know, little traditions and special rituals that make it the most anticipated party of the year. After all, the victors are a rare species. Who wouldn't give an arm and a leg to rub shoulders with them?

Mrs. Caldron chuckles hoarsely as she walks out of the room, and Selena rushes to help her with the door. "Here you are, ma'am. Looking forward to the Games?"

The old woman's eyes light up with mischief, smiling cheekily at Selena. "The Games are so broken, so filled with pain and anger and things that we couldn't stomach if we weren't watching it from the safety of our home. I just want the viewers to see a little light, a little absurdity as well."

Then she vanishes, leaving Selena with a headache and more questions than answers.

 **Ashira Marlstone, 27, District Twelve Mentor, Victor of the 5th Hunger Games**

It's been a while since she's ridden this train to the Capitol.

The last time she was on a train was, say, the _Sixth Games_ , when she had panicked and quit mentoring. How easy it was to run away from her problems!

But there's truly no way to escape the Games.

At least she doesn't have to argue with Pollux. The man is in one of the top Capitol hospitals, being operated on for something clogging up one of his arteries in his heart or whatnot. Maybe it'll help get rid of his attitude. She still remembers how, in a drunken rage, Pollux managed to insult the family of Olive Blake in the fourteenth Hunger Games because she had the _audacity_ to lose. A fourteen-year-old!

She might have never been able to meet her tributes, but she'll try to get them through as much of the Games as she can. It's all she can do.

The train rushes through a tunnel and Ashira gasps in delight, watching the lake of shining waters reflect the marvels of the Capitol. It's always a rush of excitement to see that. It's her favourite part of the train ride. And it means that she's almost in the Capitol.

The train begins to slow down and Ashira prepares herself for her exit, gathering up the few bags that she's brought from back home. She's ready to help her tributes. No matter what it takes, she will try to get one of them home, or at least smooth their way to defeat.

She peers out of the window as the train approaches the platform, looking at a growing crowd of people. Are those… are those the victors? In person? Oh my, they're all waiting for her!

And as she steps off of the train and is engulfed by Clay and Natalia and Maddie and all the rest, she realizes it's almost as if she's never left the Capitol.

That's because a piece of herself never has.

 **A fourth update in a row! I'm such a nice person :3 And now we're finally into the sponsoring! Enjoy Mrs. Caldron? *cough cough you're welcome Silver cough cough* I hope you did! Because with the sponsor meeting over, we now can start sponsoring! Hooray! And a warm welcome to Ashira, the victor of my Partial SYOT, Impossible, and made by the lovely goldie031! For more info on why she hasn't mentored until now, check out the story! I might even reward sponsor points to those who review it :333**

 **Now, to refresh us all, here's how the system works, the values of items, and your personal points right now! Those who are currently following the story have their points up towards the top, while those who seem to have vanished are towards the bottom of the pile.**

 **Rules/How to get Sponsor Points**

1st Tribute Submitted= 40 Points

2nd Tribute Submitted= 15 Points

3rd Tribute Submitted= 10 Points

4th Tribute Submitted= 5 Points

Newcomer and no tributes= 10 Points

 _Review (No Matter How Short or Long it is)= 5 Points_

 _Training Scores_

1= 5 Points/2= 5 Points

3= 5 Points/4= 10 Points

5= 10 Points/6= 10 Points

7= 15 Points/8= 15 Points

9= 15 Points/10= 20 Points

11= 25 Points/12= 30 Points

 **Sponsor Items and Value {Subject to change}**

Random & Useless Item: 1 Point

Crackers= 30 Points

1/2 Litre of Water= 50 Points

1 Litre of Water= 60 Points

1 Apple= 35 Points

Bread= 45 Points

Soup= 45 Points

Beef Jerky= 30 Points

Alcohol= 70 Points

Energy Drink= 35 Points

Steak Dinner= 70 Points

Custom Meal (Your Choice)= 85 Points

Cupcakes= 40 Points

Icecream= 50 Points

1 Egg= 35 Points

Bandages= 50 Points

First Aid Kit= 80 Points

Needle and Thread= 40 Points

Matches= 55 Points

Glass Bottle= 40 Points

Rags= 40 Points

Kerosene= 40 Points

Aspirin= 35 Points

Custom Medicine= 75 Points

Tent= 105 Points

Rubber Lifeboat= 100 Points

Sun Hat= 50 Points

Regular Knife= 40 Points

Strange Spyglass= 125 Points

1 Throwing Knife= 40 Points

Bow and 5 Arrows= 80 Points

1 Arrow= 35 Points

Sword= 75 Points

Spear= 70 Points

Mace= 65 Points

Axe= 70 Points

Hatchet= 60 Points

Trident= 80 Points

Sais= 65 Points

2 Daggers= 60 Points

Guaranteed Survival to the Final Three= 10 000 Points

 **Sponsor Points**

SilverflowerXRavenpaw= 155 Points

The Girl With The Knives= 185 Points

brooke2214= 105 Points

66samvr= 240 Points

GreyWolf44= 195 Points

Elim9= 115 Points

AmericanPI= 80 Points

TheBestGemini= 95 Points

HoshiNyanGirl= 40 Points

Yyvonee= 65 Points

Foxfaceisthebest= 55 Points

iridescenteverdeen= 120 Points

Kealimepie= 95 Points

District 9 Tribute= 80 Points

BladeIsMyPenname= 70 Points

BabyRue11= 45 Points

Sparky She-Demon= 45 Points

RoadieMcRoadface = 15 Points

Fanfiction Tribute= 15 Points

 **Sponsor Points took me a LOONG time to make sure that they were correct, so I'm glad to finally have them up in here. Go wild! Sponsor anything! Sponsor anyone! Have fun! And I'll see you in the arena with our next chapter ;))) Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	31. Day I: Dead Until Dark

**Bernard Hancock, 12, District Twelve Male**

He sprints through the wheat field or whatever he's running in the middle of, tripping and stumbling with the small dark-orange backpack that he had snatched from the side of his pedestal. He didn't go into the bloodbath. He _was_ going to grab one of those large swords adorning the sides of the cornucopia, just beckoning him to come in closer, but then he had gone blind. And it all went to hell from there.

He's honestly surprised that he's made it this far without going blind again. He was sprinting as fast as he could towards the tunnel after the countdown with his backpack, but he had stumbled and went blind again as he crashed into the thorn bushes. He had heard someone race by him before regaining his vision, running through the tunnel to find the corpse of the boy from Nine.

It's more surprising that he didn't vomit at the sight of the corpse.

He slows to a walk as the cannons start firing in the distance, digging out his backpack and peering inside to see what he's gotten from the game makers. A knife and… a piece of plastic greets him, the plastic shining from the sunlight.

He swears angrily, using all of the words that he's learned from listening to the miners coming back into the Seam before grabbing the knife and throwing away his plastic. Under the pathetic sheet of plastic is a small can of food, enough to last for the rest of the day.

Why couldn't he have gotten something cool? Like some acid to throw in another tribute's face?

He storms through the field, muttering angrily to himself as he glares at the dusty-brown ground. But then he parts the wheat in front of him and looks up with surprise, observing the short tribute in front of him. It's the boy from Three - Scott? Wyatt? - who greets him with fear, holding up a coil of wire and struggling to stop his teeth from chattering. "I… I'm armed! Stay away!"

Bernard puts his hands up cautiously, holding his knife carefully within the palm of his hand. "Are you alright? I've got some food that we could share, and a weapon to help us. If we ally, we'll be twice as strong. There's only, like, twelve of us left! That means we're a sixth of the competition!"

"Thirteen," the boy corrects, pushing back his hair. "I heard eleven cannons in the bloodbath."

"No, wasn't there twelve?" Bernard argues, dropping his knife on the ground. "I heard twelve. Are you _sure_ that there was only eleven? I'm pretty sure I'm right."

The boy chuckles slightly, putting down the wire alongside the knife. "No, eleven. I stopped and counted. Seriously. I saw three of the deaths, after all."

"I only saw… two?" muses Bernard, looking back to the hidden meadow. If you look over the stalks of tall, tall wheat, you're able to see the tops of the thorn bushes. "Yeah, it was two. One was the girl from Eight, and the other was the guy from Nine. Wait, there was a body next to his. Umm, I think it was the boy from Eleven? Or maybe the girl… weren't they both girls though? "

"You talk a lot," observes the boy, mussing up his gelled hair that his stylist likely put hard work into. Bernard can almost hear their sighs of disappointment. "But it was eleven. I'm _certain_."

"My mom hates me talking at the dinner table, but I think I talk just well enough. How else are we supposed to endure boredom? And for the number of cannons, I guess we'll find out tonight. After all, we'll see all of the deaths!" Bernard smiles in triumph, raising his hands over his head and placing them on his black hair. "Anyway, are we allies?"

"Sure!" The boy sticks his hand out for Bernard to shake, and the two nod solemnly. "What's your name, by the way? I'm Shawn."

"Bernard Hancock!" he replies, grinning happily as he shakes Shawn's hand. "What did you get from the bloodbath? I only managed to get a knife, my can of food, and some stupid plastic."

"Where _is_ the plastic?" the boy inquires, looking into Bernard's backpack. "I bet it's something useful. The game makers wouldn't give us anything stupid."

"Oh, I threw it away," responds Bernard airily. "No use having stuff you can't use, you know?"

The boy gives a strangled cry of horror and pushes past Bernard, searching on his hands and knees through the route that Bernard had taken. After a few long minutes, he stands on his feet with a cry of triumph, the dreaded plastic in his hands. "I think it's supposed to reflect body heat or collect water. Anyway, we're going to use this. Did you even try the survival stations?"

Bernard shrugs, looking into the wheat. "Kinda. But I liked the swords better. Did you know that the swords are made with special metals to make them as light and as durable as possible? The instructors taught me about it while teaching me how to use it. They were actually pretty cool! I think that swords are a great weapon to use. If you know how to use them, you can really understand all of the thought that has to go into making them and why they're so durable..."

And as he continues to speak, a feeling of what he can only pinpoint as satisfaction starts to creep over Bernard. He didn't want to be alone in the arena. He never likes to be alone.

But now he has a friend, someone he can trust. And that can make all the difference in this game of survival.

 **Zora Stikander, 16, District Two Female**

She looks around the cornucopia, dead bodies collapsed on the rich dust collecting around the meadow. The other careers left are panting for breath as the last tribute collapses onto the ground, Ajax wiping blood and sweat off of his brow as he tries to catch his breath. "Is… that… all of them?"

Zora nods, kicking one of the dead bodies. "Yeah, that's all of them. The rest have left."

"Meaning that we've got more to hunt," points out Keelan. "How many can you see dead?"

"I see eight," observes Ajax, looking around the hill and inside of the cornucopia. "Maybe you guys see more? I did think that we got more than eight, although a lot of outliers got kills. I only got the girl from Eight."

"I got the boy from Eight," says Zora, biting her lip in anger. She needs to get more kills. She can't afford to continue to be in a slump. After her lacklustre performance in the private sessions, she didn't need to have that happen. If she only had managed to kill someone stronger, like the boy from Seven, she could have elevated in the eyes of the people. Then again, the boy from Eight _did_ get a six. At least that'll look good to them all.

"I got… boy from Five?" muses Keelan, scratching his head. "It was weird with the blindness and all. I couldn't really corner anyone without making sure I could flee, you know? We would have done better if we all worked together."

"I got no one, but I still look great!" exclaims Taffeta, only a hint of blood on her right sleeve where she's holding a large knife. She's stripped off the top of her outfit, leaving her undershirt to glisten in the sun. Zora has to admit, it'll attract plenty of sponsors to her cause. Maybe she should do something about her own appearance…

But no, she doesn't have a body like Taffeta. She's better off just playing the insane killer angle. After all, her face won't help any causes.

She touches the scar as the rest of the careers grimly round up the corpses on the ground, piling them up for helicrafts to carry away towards the Capitol. She's stuck lugging the body of the girl from Ten towards the pile, gasping in disgust as she sees Monique's body. "Ugh! The poor girl!"

Keelan grimly hauls his district partner's body to the pile, looking down at her silently before turning her shattered face away from view. He tucks her arm to her side and turns away, helping to carry Luxx's body to the pile with Taffeta. "Anyone know who killed Luxx? He seemed pretty strong, not the type to succumb to some outlier."

"Maybe that girl from Five got her!" pipes up Taffeta, grinning brightly as she dumps his body onto the pile. "She got Monique, after all. The girl's bloodthirsty."

Zora stares at Taffeta before turning away, grabbing the body of the girl from Eleven and dumping it onto the pile. "That's eight."

They all turn away and grab their weapons as the cannons begin to sound, each one fading away into the daylight. Eleven of them boom before they stop abruptly, birds starting to chirp once more in the trees that the thorn bushes cling so stubbornly to. Zora frowns, looking at the pile. "We've only got eight here. That's eleven."

The rest follow her to the bottom of the hill, finding the body of the girl from Three near the tunnel. Her top hat's next to her still, pale body, and Ajax places it on her head before walking into the tunnel with Zora. The bodies of the boy from Eleven - or perhaps a girl, the tribute had said something in their interview before the lights went out - and the boy from Nine are at the end of the tunnel, lying on the ground with an unnatural pallor on their skin. They don't look like people anymore. They look like… _things_ now. She's not sure if she likes that or not.

They all troop back to the cornucopia, the magic number of eleven satisfying them all. It's good to know that they've found all of the dead bodies. They don't need a tribute in hiding or another body to turn up where they least expect it. It brings some peace to her mind.

They all sit down on a large container bearing lots of weapons, one of them pricking Taffeta in the back as she sits down. "Youch!"

The girl stands back up and gazes ruefully at the container before taking a seat on a metal box, gazing towards the other careers. "Should we plan? I think that's a good idea right now. Ben was always going on about familiarizing yourself with your surroundings or some shit. We should do that."

"I saw a river to the east," Keelan says helpfully. "There's also a forest to the west, and the rest is farmland. I don't think there's anything to the other side. Just thorns to block us from the edge of the arena. So, I think the tributes are going for the water. At least most of them, you know? Water brings some peace to your mind."

"Well, at least some to _your_ mind," Ajax remarks with a grin, pushing back his reddish-brown hair. "There's also a barn and a house near the water. Double the reason to go there."

"Then it's settled," Zora finds herself saying, taking a deep breath and standing up. "We can take a first hunt right now, and then busy ourselves with getting to know the territory before we do some serious hunting."

The rest nod, picking up weapons and getting ready to leave. There's a difference in the group now that Luxx and Monique are gone. They've lost her depressing nature and his tension with Taffeta, leaving a strong core group. They're all better off without the two.

But dammit, six is such a better number than four!

 **Giovanna Fillinfini, 18, District Nine Female**

She can't stop screaming.

She killed Pax - oh Panem she just killed her district partner - and now she can't close her eyes. Because whenever she does, she sees his grin on his face. He won't go away.

A fleeting thought comes over her about her former alliance, but she quickly pushes it away to continue screaming. She wouldn't be able to meet up again with Marshall and Ryker. Not after Pax. Not after Pax.

Is it always going to be like this? Because she's only killed once, and she feels like she's going to puke.

She retches into the bushes beside her, collapsing into an incoherently weeping heap of adrenaline and nerves before starting to regain control. Maybe she's going to be okay. She just has to find a place to hide, and she'll be safe. She _will_.

She can't piece her thoughts together by just thinking, so she states them aloud for the camera to regain her train of thought. "I'll… I'll go to those woods in the distance. There should be something to eat there. And everyone else will just want to go straight ahead. I'll be safe. I'll be safe."

She says the last part more for herself than for the cameras.

She stands up and looks towards the woods, the dark images of gnarled trees and dark-green leaves causing her to shudder. But the very reason that she's so afraid of it is the same reason why she's going to find solace there. Nothing better than to hide in the place where nobody wants to go.

She starts up again at a jogging pace, breathing evenly and deeply. It's almost like she's back at home, jogging along the amber fields of grain towards work. She always feels better when she's running. She used to do it to escape home, to escape the fact that there's nothing but dead ends in her life, but it's now a comfort. She wants to go back.

Funny, one never knows how good they had it until they lose it all.

The thought causes her to snicker in laughter, and she wipes away the dried tears on her cheeks to smile firmly. She can be happy now. No use on looking back at the past, when this arena will be her home. Maybe she can build in the forest! That would be an accomplishment, to occupy herself with making a hidden shelter. Even if she doesn't think anyone's going to come into the woods, the careers might think otherwise. And she can't afford that right now. Not at the start of the Games.

It's easier to think about killing when she thinks of it as a game. She's already on her way to winning with Paxton's death, and now all she has to do is survive the other twelve tributes left! No, that sounds morbid. It's better to remain human. Someone who can't cry can't laugh as well.

She reaches the forest after a good few minutes, the sun blazing brightly in the sky. It must be around two right now. She's gotta have been in this arena for at least two hours. She knows that the Games started at 11:36, they always do, she's just to remember where it was in the sky so that she knows what time it must be. It was… to her right?

She digs through her backpack to look for anything of value, but all that lies in the light-blue fabric is food and a sleeping bag. No compass or watch. Damn it all.

Then she goes blind and she yelps in frustration, sitting down and waiting for it to pass. It's a while, but it eventually leaves and lets her blink in awe at the sight of the forest. She can barely see any light in the forest. It doesn't look safe. It looks like the product of someone's nightmares, some of the branches forming into twisted, horrible shapes that make her shiver in nervousness. But she'll go in, at least just to try. She can always go back into the fields.

She steps into the forest, looking back towards the light of the day. No, there's too much room for visibility in the bright fields. She's better in the darkness. She can observe them all from the darkness. She turns around and walks for three minutes into the forest, counting down the seconds slowly before she can barely see the edge of the woods. Good. If she can't see the end, anyone back there can't see her.

She sets her pack down and observes her surroundings critically, her eyes having to adjust to the thick foliage blocking out the sun. There seem to be plenty of sticks and long branches lining the ground, as well as plenty of leaves and… pine needles - yes, that's what she remembers from the plant identification system - covering the rich soil of the arena. That'll be good for her shelter. She can start right away.

She starts by hauling plenty of branches towards two large trees, stacking them in convenient crooks in each of the trees. Together, the sticks are starting to make a well-built shelter with two walls, but she can put one thick branch at her head level before stacking long sticks against it to make a full wall. And she does just that, all four sides of the shelter slowly going up. It seems to be hours before she's finished half of the walls, wiping sweat from her brow and gazing around the rest of the forest. It would be good to get some sponsor gifts right now. She could finish this so much more easily if she had knives to cut the branches or rope to tie them together. But no silver canister comes floating down from the treetops, and she settles into her work with a defeated air.

She'll be just fine for now. As long as she doesn't think, she'll be just fine.

But she doesn't want to fall asleep.

 **Marshall Fields, 16, District Ten Male**

He can't stop looking over his shoulder.

Aris and Ryker are walking alongside each other nonchalantly and looking towards the barn in the distance, but he's still nervous. What if the careers decide to hunt early? What if another tribute is thirsty for blood? There could be mutts anywhere, just waiting for them to become too boring to focus on. He's got to keep his guard up. Relaxing will only lead to his death here.

Maybe it's just his nerves from beginning the Hunger Games. Other tributes have taken a while to settle down into the Games, getting paranoid easily and killing their allies because they were afraid that they'd be betrayed in the night. But he can't do that right now. He's got a great position in the game right now. All he has to do is lead them to that barn, and they'll find any means of survival. There aren't any barns in Seven, are there?

The pair from Seven look behind to see him and wave him forward, Ryker pointing towards the barn behind his bundle of backpacks. "We're almost there. Should we go there for the night, or should we try the - I'm blind again."

Everyone sits down and waits patiently for the blindness to secede, Aris drumming mindlessly on the edge of her ankle. Ryker just seems annoyed by this point, staring off into the distance and trying to focus his gaze so as to bring his vision back. But, unsurprisingly, staring as hard as he can doesn't work, and he's on the ground until he lights up with a smile. "It's back!"

The others help him up silently and Marshall takes the lead this time around, leading the others to the barn. Ryker was the last one to go blind, so he gets to be in the back. It's the closest thing they have to order at this point. This way, anyone who goes blind in a chase will at least be noticed by one of the alliance, if not helped along to safety.

He's the first to step into the large, dusty barn, coughing as Ryker helps him to drag open the large metal door closing off the barn. Greeting them are stacks on stacks of hay, just waiting to be devoured by hungry cattle and sold off to members of the district.

But he isn't in Ten anymore. He's got to turn these memories into something safe now. Something to protect them.

They all go to the side with the hay bales, Marshall pointing to the other side of the barn. "That will all just be straw; always like that for hay farmers. We're not going to hide in the silo outside of the barn, that would just be filled with wheat and we'd likely suffocate. We might be able to take out some hay bales in such a way to hide stuff, even ourselves in the hay. But I don't like that idea very much, we'll have a better chance at stringing ourselves up to the rafters. Want to hide the supplies?"

They all walk to the side of the barn, Ryker smelling the fresh air with a smile on his face. "Smells nice in here."

"At least there are no raccoons," Marshall warns, looking around the barn as if it would summon the beasts to this safe haven. "A barn with raccoons smells like a dung heap. It sucks. And make sure not to go to the bottom of the barn. That's where the cows will be. We don't need to mess with bulls tampered with by the game makers."

The others nod and Aris laughs, skipping across the bales before jumping into the air and flipping her body. She lands perfectly, laughing again. "I'm never able to do that at home."

Then she sobers down as they drag a few bales in the middle out of the pile and to the side, dumping the backpacks in the hole that they've made. Then they all sit around the pile and open backpacks quickly, taking out food and ropes that they'll be able to use tonight.

"Got some rope."

"Pack of crackers and dried beef in this one."

"Mine only have compasses and other shit." Aris tosses hers to the side and rolls her eyes, twirling a knife around her fingertips before dropping it into the hay. "I never find anything good."

"But we have enough rope for all of us!" points out Ryker, tossing everyone a coil of rope. "Now, let's get up onto those rafters. I'll feel safer up there."

They first hide the supplies, dragging a few bales to the pile and stacking them over the pile. Soon, the hole is completely covered, some loose straw tossed around it for good measure. Then they all start climbing up the wooden ladder clinging to the side of the barn, clinging to the pieces of wood as they make their way to the top. Marshall is first, getting to the top of the ladder as it curves with the barn roof and hops to the side, clinging onto the side of the barn and standing on a piece of wood that's attached to the side of the wooden barn. "If we keep walking along this ridge, we'll make it to the loft. Unless you just want me to go first and then haul you up."  
The pair from Seven decline, leaping gracefully onto the side and walking as carefully as Marshall. They're good with heights as well. But he's still more experienced, and he turns the corner, going hand over hand on small handpieces meant for workers to use in their journeys around the barn. But judging by how full the barn is right now, falling will be no problem. Only bruises will greet them if they fall into the stacks of hay.

They soon reach the loft, everyone tossing their supplies into the piles of hay and yawning slightly. It's close to the sunset.

Marshall turns to the others, yawning widely and rubbing his eyes. "Who wants to be first sentry?"

"I will!" exclaims Aris, chewing one of the crackers in the tins of food. "I want to get it over with. Who wants the second watch?"

Ryker puts his hand up next, and Marshall nods. He's used to waking up early. It'll be just the same for a shift. They can explore tomorrow. Tonight, they just need to sleep.

But they'll never let their guard down.

 **Isa James, 15, District Six Female**

It's starting to turn to dusk, the sun slowly setting into the river as the wheat turns into a rustling field of darkness. It's going to be dark pretty soon. But she can still appreciate the lovely pink colours that the sunset gives off, illuminating flowers that she hadn't noticed as she fled the bloodbath.

She's never seen a sunset as beautiful as this one.

She turns around and looks towards the thorn bushes surrounding the cornucopia hill, the tunnel flashing in the pleasant setting of the arena. It hasn't been very hard so far, she's just walked around in the fields and intertwined daisies to make chains that she threw into the air and giggled at as they landed in the tall stalks of wheat. No wonder people in the factory districts were grumpier than those in Ten. They never got the opportunity to romp around in nature.

But she's got no more time for games now. She's going back to the cornucopia now. It's time to join the careers. No point in sticking around the arena if she can't be part of the biggest alliance here. There's safety in numbers and all of that crap.

She stops suddenly at the sound of rustling next to her, crouching down and holding her breath as whatever is near her passes loudly. It's another tribute, swearing loudly to themselves as they seem to pass right over her trembling body, their loud breathing only inches away from her. Please, please, please, for the love of Panem, don't let her be seen! She can't die! Not yet! She's got too much to do, too much to survive!

But then the tribute continues, swearing again as they continue to wherever they're going to go. It's… it's the girl from Five, that Ashrifah girl. Oh, thank Panem she wasn't found by that psycho. She'd be dead quicker than Tony.

She shudders when she remembers Tony's death, his fall towards the minds replaying again and again in her mind. She might have hated the boy, but, strangely enough, she just wants his sneering face back once more. She just wants to be home, and her last connection to Six was blown up in a blinding flash.

She doesn't like to be alone.

She counts to ten before standing up and continuing to walk towards the hill, looking over her shoulder every few seconds. Gone or not, Ashrifah's left a worrying sensation in her mind. At any moment, at a _ny time,_ she might be stalked by another tribute in the arena.

She whimpers at the thought, clutching her fists together and trying not to scream. But then a delicious thought comes over her, causing her lips to lift upwards and her eyebrows to raise.

If she's the one stalking the careers, she'll be the one to fear, not some filthy little tribute in the arena.

She embraces the role with fervour, hunching her shoulder over and contorting her face into something to be feared. It feels delicious to feel like a creep, walking around silently and stepping into the small tunnel that will lead to the careers. It also seems to heighten her senses, Isa instinctively avoiding fallen branches and smelling a large fire that the careers must have set in order to keep warm. It isn't too cold, but the careers can afford to be confident. And soon enough, she'll be one of them.

She slumps over her back to become smaller of a figure, entering the tunnel and creeping silently towards the hill. There's such a rush in being the one to stalk others, a sense of adrenaline and excitement creeping in her veins as she does so. She won't mind being a career. She'd rather be feared than fearing another tribute in this arena. It does wonders for her mind to be a threat.

She starts crawling slowly up the hillside, pausing every so often to listen to the careers chat. She can hear the girl from Two, Zora, leading the conversation, while Keelan, the boy from Four, pops in with input of his own now and then. The others are pretty silent, occasional snorts of laughter coming from the boy from Two, Ajax. But the girl from One, Taffeta, is silent, something that might be a snore coming from her delicate lips. She'll be Isa's target.

She keeps crawling, a knife materializing in front of her as she continues to move forward. She snatches up the hidden treasure and keeps moving, getting closer and closer to the girl. Almost time to do it. She's almost there.

A nocturnal bird tweets in the air and the careers whip around, letting Isa wrap her arm around Taffeta's neck and place the blade on her soft skin. The girl is taken by surprise, trying to grab Isa's arms and toss her off of her, but Isa only digs the blade in deeper. She's not going to let go.

The other careers turn around and yell in surprise, Zora reacting first. She leaps towards Isa and holds a curved sword to her chest, breathing heavily and waiting for Isa to move. Keelan is next with a spear and Ajax stands behind him, two daggers held carefully in his hands. Zora's the one to speak, her eyes flashing dangerously while the fire highlights her scar. "What _are_ you doing here, Six?"

Isa breathes deeply, fright starting to come over her. But no, _she_ is the threat now, and she allows herself to smirk. She's in control. "I'm here to join."

"Do you _see_ any signs to join?" quips Keelan, and the group titters quickly before turning serious once more. "But seriously, we aren't taking you. Get out."

"You would have if you didn't have that idiot Luxx with you," snarls Isa, staying in character. She can't let them see her fear. "I can just kill this Taffeta and leave it at that. But she took my side with you guys when I first asked to join. Now, one last time. I'm joining you all."

Zora moves closer, anger flashing in her eyes one more time before giving into mirth. "I still like her. Do we want her?"

Taffeta sputters in anger, but then calms as the others nod. Zora holds her hand out to Isa, Isa shaking it firmly. The girl's got a strong grip. "Welcome."

Isa doesn't let any sign of relief show on her face, hiding all emotion. She's not Isa anymore. She's a tribute, ready to kill at a whim. "Thank you kindly."

She steps away from the girl from One, the other careers slowly dropping their weapons and going back to the fire. They've accepted her.

Now, all she has to do is learn how to kill someone else. But she will. She's going to go home. Because…

Because she will. There's no other answer. And if she lingers too long on the thought, she might remember that she's just a girl trying her best to survive.

But she pushes the thought away and laughs at the fire, drawing her mask of confidence closer to her face. They'll never see her true side.

 **The truth is out! Isa's joined the careers, and the new rebels have formed with Shawn and Bernard! How exciting! Now, how did you guys think this chapter was? The Games have just begun, so expect plenty of drama and excitement. For now, however, the tributes are settling in.**

 **No deaths today! We'll get plenty of those later, don't worry XDDD Anyway, the large bloodbath meant less tributes to encounter one another, and the two who did - Shawn and Bernard - allied! So everyone survives this lovely day ;)**

 **KILL COUNT**

(Italicized are deceased tributes)

Taffeta Paisley, District One Female - 1 Kill  
Zora Stikander, District Two Female - 1 Kill  
Ajax Hollis, District Two Male - 1 Kill  
Keelan Spinnaker, District Four Male - 1 Kill  
Ashrifah Keyaut, District Five Female - 2 Kills  
Ryker Underwood, District Seven Male - 1 Kill  
 _Paxton Webb, District Nine Male - 1 Kill  
_ Giovanna Fillinfini, District Nine Female - 1 Kill  
Marshall Furr, District Ten Male - 1 Kill  
Arena - 1 Kill

 **DISTRICT PLACEMENTS**

District One  
District Two  
District Three  
District Four  
District Five  
District Six  
District Seven  
District Nine  
District Ten  
District Twelve  
11th: District Eleven  
12th: District Eight

 **Here are the alliances, so that we're all on the same page ;)**

Careers: Taffeta, Zora, Ajax, Keelan, Isa

We've got backpacks!™: Aris, Marshall, Ryker

Rebels against puberty: Shawn, Bernard

Loners: Ashrifah, Giovanna, Moon

The Dead: Lincoln, Tony, Hollister, Nehemiah, Wyatt, Cornelia, Carol, Paxton, Pepper, Mira, Luxx, Monique

 **Sponsor points are the same for now, so they won't update until tomorrow :DD**

 **I'm excited to keep going into the arena! I've got a top eight poll in my profile, so go check that out and vote lol you'll have a great time! Now, let's see if I can't write another chapter to finish up September ;) We're going to have a great time in the arena, guys! Lots of stuff planned :DDD Until day two, TheAmazingJAJ**


	32. Day II: A Shilling for Candles

**Taffeta Paisley, 18, District One Female**

It's getting warmer as the sun starts to rise over the horizon.

She lets the blankets that she's been huddling in while keeping watch drop onto the dusty-brown ground, taking a deep breath and flipping back her hair to let her face be illuminated by the dawn light. "Good morning, Panem!"

Unsurprisingly, Panem doesn't say hello back, but she doesn't care. She'll play around for the cameras today. If they can't find any kills, they've got to distract the sponsors somehow with other means. Any of the careers along with her are fair game.

Oh, how she loves the game!

The other careers don't stir as she walks down towards the tunnel, holding a knife in her hands and making sure not to trip over any of the fallen branches. As expected, the bodies by the tunnel have vanished. The Capitol does their job well.

She pushes back her hair and stretches sleepily, looking longingly towards the large river she can see so clearly on the horizon of the arena. Maybe they'll get to hunt there today. That would be nice, to finally be able to get all of the gunk she just knows is on her off of her body.

And who knows, maybe she'll get another kill there!

She grins in anticipation and walks back up the hill, watching the small girl from Six silently start to stir a pot of oatmeal over the fire that she kept going all night. _Bitch_ , she thinks, but then she corrects herself. After all, it was Luxx who kept the feisty outlier away from the alliance in the first place. She's perfectly fine with Isa being in the career pack for now.

Even if she held a knife to her throat and almost ended her chances of winning the Games like that.

She soon reaches the fire, sitting down on a container and watching the girl from Six frown in distaste when she sees something in the pot not to her liking. "We do have bread, you know. Or is the city girl used to eating hot meals every morning?"

Isa frowns, her eyes flashing in annoyance as she lugs the pot off of the fire. "I'm not eating this. I'll just have some of the bread and fruit."

"Suit yourself! I'll see how well you've done our breakfast." Taffeta smiles at the outlier and looks in the pot, prepared to throw a scathing insult at the girl. She doesn't like lumpy oatmeal.

But the oatmeal is prepared close to perfection, a rich smell emerging from the oatmeal. "This looks… almost _good_. What did you put into it?"

"We don't even have any blueberries!" Isa moans, her nose flaring in anger at the pot. "All I was able to put into it was some cinnamon and brown sugar. Nutmeg would have been a good option, but there weren't many spices."

The girl frowns at the thought, biting her lip in anger as she bit into a rich orange from the stock of food. "At least I could fry some apples in cinnamon and sugar. Those will be okay if I didn't mess those up as well. You see, this is why I don't cook! Chefs are supposed to do what they have to do, not me. I'm better off back home."

Taffeta's eyes bulge at the thought of fried cinnamon apples, nearly jumping to the pan of fruit and sugars that Isa's prepared. She grabs the largest slice and bites it with relish, trying to eat quietly enough to not wake up the others. But the intoxicating smell of breakfast soon reaches the sleeping careers, and all three get up and grin when they smell the oatmeal. "Who made this?"

"Six did," Taffeta says after finishing a mouthful of apple, pointing with a clean finger towards Isa. The girl isn't paying attention, rummaging through the supplies to see if she can find any raisin bread. "But she doesn't realize that she's a great cook."

"She _doesn't_ think she can cook? Rich people are weird," Ajax says through a mouthful, and Taffeta struggles not to frown in distaste at the oatmeal almost spilling out of his mouth. Why can't they have proper manners?

"I think we'll have to inform her otherwise," Keelan says lazily, twirling a knife between his fingertips as he takes a bowl to spoon oatmeal into it. "We'll have to keep her alive just for her food. She's probably the only good cook we have. I barely know how to flip an egg properly! Misty always took care of the cooking..." The boy trails off, gazing into the distance as he ponders over whatever's on his mind. But Taffeta doesn't care. He can keep whatever secrets he has to himself.

The beeping of a parachute drifting down to the meadow disturbs them all, and they all look skywards to see a single parachute floating down to the meadow. But then another one comes, then another, and soon enough she can see _hundreds_ falling down to the valley. What's going on?

"I've gone blind," moans Ajax, and he ducks into the cornucopia as to not be hit by the falling packages. The others run towards the packages, stuffing their arms with as many as they can before running back to the cornucopia with them. What are in them? There's so many!

Taffeta grabs a smaller parachute and opens it, greedily looking inside to see what's positioned on the fabric of the container. "It's… a _sprinkle_?"

"What?" Zora's voice pierces throughout the meadow accusingly, an open parachute in her arms. "It's a single sprinkle! A sprinkle! What are you doing, Clay?"

The others quickly open packages and cry out in disgust, tossing the sprinkles away. What are the sponsors doing?

Taffeta curses in anger as she opens another package with a single sprinkle, throwing it into the meadow. But then a larger package drifts down to her feet, a large one glistening on the package. Maybe this is the real thing. Maybe it's finally something _useful_!

She opens it quickly, bending down to the package as she looks to see what's inside. First, she says nothing, and then she screams in terror as a giant boa slithers out of the package and onto the arm. "Augh!"  
The other careers see the snake as she collapses to the ground, the boa playfully slithering up to her neck. Zora rips it off of her body and throws it into the meadow, the snake slithering towards whatever hiding place it can find. The only thing left is Taffeta blinking blearily as the others appear over her, trying to get her up onto her feet.

 _Fuck sponsors._

 **Moon Krak** **ów, 17, District Twelve Female**

She stands in the middle of the field, the metallic shovel that she had grabbed from the shack near the river smeared with dirt and grime that's made its way to the rest of her body. But she doesn't really care. All she wants to do is get another one of these traps finished, and then she can finally wait for tributes to spill into them and fall into the sharpened stakes that are at the bottom of the pits.

She thinks that it's quite ingenious. The three paths that she's made are all trampled wheat, made to seem like the trampled stalks of wheat are all resting on top of the solid ground. But she's dug a hole in the middle of each path, making it about three feet deep before putting the sharpened stakes that she made from firewood at the shack next to the river in each hole. Any tribute who sees the wheat that she's covered the holes with will think it's just the same as the rest of the ground, and their foot will go right into the stakes. A perfect injury.

She continues to dig, the hole growing deeper and deeper. A pity that she doesn't have the time for deeper holes, but that's the way of the game. She can't waste any more time than she already has. Now, all she has to do is find a suitable bait for her traps. Does she have any food left from her backpack?

A look inside the muddy-brown pack proves that she has a tin of cracker and some beef jerky left, and she puts them on both sides of the trap. She can't risk tributes coming from one side and taking it without even touching the trap. If she arranges them both messily enough, they'll just look like she dropped them in her hurry towards safety.

A bird cries as it flies over the fields, and she looks up too see the black crow rest on a stalk of wheat. It gazes at her with a curious stare, the bright and beady eyes staring into her soul.

She throws a stone from the ground at the crow and it flies off, cawing displeasure to the rest of the arena. Oh shit, she just notified the whole arena where she is.

She takes off through the path, heading back towards the small shack where she had spent the night near the water. She'll likely be safe there, better than any other part of the arena. In the day and a bit she's been in the arena, she's seen no one since she ran out of the tunnel with a small backpack and a knife to safety.

She briskly jogs towards the wooden shack, opening the door and shutting the latch on the inside of the door to secure herself inside the small building. Then she turns around and walks towards the end of the shack, a large boat drifting in water that leads straight out onto the river that the shack's perched on top of. She's not going to hide in the boat; she tried it last night and found a small hole in the side that ensures that it will sink if taken out into the river. She'll leave it there for some other poor tribute to fall victim to.

What seem to be shouts and cries of delight come from the side of the shack, and she ducks into the water silently, moving towards the side of the riverbank and staying as still as she can. It might be the careers. Oh Panem, she can't be caught by the careers! She can't!

But it's not one of the cocky careers that shouts to their allies, it's what seems to be one of the outliers. She can tell by the rougher accent and the way they strain some words, while careers are generally better spoken due to being closer to the Capitol. It must be that alliance between the Seven boy, the Nine girl, and the Ten boy that formed in training.

At least she knows she can outswim them. She's not even sure if there are any ponds in Ten or Nine to practice in!

The voices of the tributes drift down to the water, and she pushes her ear to the floor of the shack to listen in on the conversation from her position in the deep water. "Aris, are you _certain_ you saw someone go in here?"

Aris - wait, what's the girl from Seven doing in this alliance? - responds confidently, her voice raising as she continues to speak. "I'm telling you, it's one of the outer females! Maybe it's the girl from Six, maybe it's the girl from Five, or maybe it's Giovanna, but _they are in here_. I'm absolutely certain. After all, we all saw that crow."

The boy from Seven speaks next, his deep voice echoing the same thought. "Yeah, we all saw that crow. And it'd be good to get another tribute dead. Sponsors like that."

Moon holds her breath as they slam open the door, the thud of what probably is the broken latch hitting the wooden floorboards. But they can't hear her yet. And they won't even _think_ of looking in the water. They won't. She'll be safe.

She has to.

The boy from Ten warns his allies as they walk across the floorboards, one of the tributes stopping at the edge of the floor where she had slipped in. "You don't know what might be in that river, guys. I don't like the look of it. Maybe the girl's in the boat. I'd hide in the boat if I was her."

Moon pushes herself closer to the riverbank, the muddy side staining her clothes and getting into her hair. But she doesn't care. She can't be seen by them, and going into the boat might let them see her. After all, she can see the hull of the booby-trapped boat. And if she can see that, who's to say that they won't see her?

But as the girl steps into the boat, no cry of recognition comes from her. Only a deep growl from the side of from where the door of the shack should be emits from the tributes, then an animalistic scream from a new tribute as they launch themselves at the other tributes.

Moon swims frantically to the side of the shack, hauling herself onto shore and sprinting into the field as the boat starts up and two tributes start wrestling on it. But the boy from Seven and Ten don't see her as they run into the field as well, a deep scratch on the boy from Seven's face. They just want to get away.

They just want to survive.

 **Aris Orchards, 16, District Seven Female**

She just wants to survive.

The girl from Five is at her throat as the boat starts driving on it's own into the river, spinning crazily and making a strange glugging noise around the front of the boat. But she's not concerned about it started. What she really needs to do is get this terror of a tribute off of her throat and toss the mace that's discarded on the floor into the river. If she doesn't, her cannon will boom a lot sooner than she wants it to.

She sees the gas lever pushed to the highest setting - if that's even what's making the boat move - but she can certainly agree that it's going as fast as it can. It's driving wildly from side to side of the wide river, sometimes getting close enough to the other side for Aris to see the flicker of the forcefield. But she's got to pay attention to this girl from Five.

The girl suddenly slams her head into Aris' nose, causing the delicate cartilage to smash and bleed rapidly onto the floor. Aris gasps and holds her hand to the shattered nose, feeling the blood stream out of her nostrils. Then she punches the girl back, catching her in the eye with a delicious punch that bruises her knuckles and causes her thumb to throb in pain. Then she picks up the mace and swings it at the girl, trying to knock her out of commision so that she can steer this boat back to safety. But the mace misses and the girl gets to her feet, wrestling Aris for the lone weapon on this boat. Back and forth they go, their arms bulging in tension and their faces sweating.

The girl is strong, Aris has to give her that, but she hasn't spent all that time in the butchery with her father to give in to the other tribute. The battle of strength is evenly matched, and only a different tactic will allow Aris to win this fight.

She spins out of the arm lock and lets the girl from Five trip onto the floor, grabbing the mace and tossing it into the water. She could have tried to hit the girl with it, but it was the best thing she could have done in the circumstances. Now the girl couldn't smash her face in with the horrible, blunt weapon.

Aris stumbles away from the girl and towards the steering wheel, trying to turn it back to the shore after she pulls back the lever. The boat's slowing down, but now she's aware of the water filling up the bottom of the boat.

They're sinking.

The girl from Five sputters as she gets back up, her eyes wide in panic. "Get it back to the riverbank!"

Aris tries to push the steering wheel towards the riverbank, but the wheel stubbornly refuses to turn. Why isn't it working? Why?

The girl yells in frustration and knocks Aris away, surprising her enough to send her stumbling towards the side of the boat. Aris stands there uncertainly, her arms wheeling forward as she tries to regain her balance, but the girl doesn't look back. She's focused on the boat, not Aris. But she can't keep her balance, and Aris falls into the water with a splash and a scream.

The boat drifts away as Aris tries to keep above the water, screaming for help as she tries to stay above the surface. But the water seems that much more choppy now that she's in it, and her arms weaken in their quest to keep her alive. She's going to drown.

She's never been swimming. There was never much opportunity for learning to swim in Seven, and her parents had shrugged off the fact that she might have to learn it one day. Where would one go in Seven to swim, other than the thin creeks that are barely high enough in the summer droughts to be above knee length? No one in Seven would think to teach their child how to swim, not when there were much more pressing matters to think about. Why teach them about a non-existent danger in their area when they can teach them how to survive if they ever get lost in the forest.

Maybe they'll start teaching their children now.

She swallows a mouthful of water and chokes on it, spraying some of it out of her mouth while her lungs begin to fill up with water. She's officially drowning now, too far from shore to be able to panickedly swim her way there. She could keep her mouth shut and keep it out, but she can't help herself from trying to inhale as much oxygen as she can before she can't anymore.

She slips under the surface of the water, her arms desperately reaching for the sunlight streaming down to the bottom of the river. But her lungs are close to bursting, and she opens her mouth and lets the water stream in. Maybe if she reaches the bottom, she can push back up and get to the surface. She won't die. She won't die.

But as her vision starts to blur and her body screams for oxygen, she can only think of her mother and how she didn't properly say goodbye.

She's sorry. If she had a chance, she'd tell her mother.

But she won't get that chance… now.

She's…

Sh-

She's sorry.

 **Ajax Hollis, 17, District Two Male**

Taffeta's still fuming about the snake in her sponsor gift.

The careers are heading towards the large barn in the distance today, but all the girl can speak about is the callousness of sponsors. At least they've managed to stop her before she went onto a tirade that condemned the Capitol as well. They don't need to lose any sponsors over a harmless prank. At least the drama will keep some attention on the careers. With their little amount of kills so far, they need as much attention as they can get at this point.

Keelan laughs as Ajax trips over a stone and falls to the ground, hauling him back up to his feet. "You okay?"

Ajax smiles ruefully, dusting his body off and feeling for any injuries. "No bodily injuries. But my pride just took a fatal blow."

Zora snorts from the front of the pack, slowing down to look back at Ajax. "I thought it took a fatal blow the last time we sparred, Jax."

"Oh yes, I forgot we already held the funeral for it before the reapings," Ajax quips. "I think we managed to get Bean to attend."

Zora snickers, speeding back up to continue their quest to the large barn. "I loved your eulogy. It was -"

The large boom of a cannon interrupts their conversation, and the careers all stop in their tracks to look around them. Isa looks nervous, gnawing on one of her knuckles and gripping a knife tightly. "Who do you think it was?"  
"Not one of our kills," Keelan mutters, looking a bit shaken. It's always surprising to hear a cannon. But this is the first time they've truly heard it live in the arena, not counting the cannons at the end of the bloodbath that summarizes the number of deaths.

It reminds them that they might be next. And that's more worrying than any fall.

Zora takes her backpack off and grabs a notepad and pen from it, flipping to a page covered in words and doodles. "That's the twelfth, right? It means that it's one of the outliers. Could be the boys from Three or Twelve, they're the weakest left in the arena."

"How about the alliance?" Keelan points out, his brow furrowed in confusion. "They might have managed to kill off that girl from Five."

"Oh, it better be the girl from Five," replies Taffeta. "She's the threat right now. If they got rid of her for us, we can easily win these Games. She killed Monique, right?"

"Yes." Keelan stares stonily into space and clenches his fist, his spear ready to be thrown at any tribute they see. Four's always close in terms of district partners. They have a loyalty towards their district that none of the other careers really understand. Ajax would say he's close to Zora, but he wouldn't be surprised by his district partner slipping a knife between his ribs because he isn't performing up to standard. That's just how it is in Two.

Zora clears her throat loudly, looking towards the barn. "We shouldn't let this distract us too much. Let's go and search for tributes, guys! We've got to get sponsors who are actually serious about helping us out."

Taffeta glares into the air at the mention of sponsors, and the tributes start moving once more to the barn. They're moving at quite a fast pace by now, all of them accustomed to running. Isa's having a bit of trouble, but she's able to keep up with them with a bit of work. Ajax didn't expect that from the snotty girl was reaped. Goes to show that he can't judge a book by his cover, doesn't it?

The barn grows ever closer as they continue to move, a large mooing sound coming from the building. Are there cows and other animals in there?

Isa gasps in relief as they reach the fence surrounding the barn, all of them pausing for breath before they head into the crimson-red building. "What do we do if there's anyone in there?"

"You'll find out!" laughs Zora, and the other careers laugh along with her. Isa joins in with them all, her nervous tone quickly turning confident to fit in with the rest of them. She's good at hiding her true emotions.

Just another reason for him to lock away his own thoughts before he goes into the barn.

Zora leaps over the fence first, walking gingerly among the dozens of cow pies dotting the barnyard. Isa and Taffeta mutter under their breath in disgust as they follow, holding their weapons close to themselves as they walk up to the large doors. Keelan helps Zora open the doors before they all step in, looking at both sides to see the bales upon bales of hay stacked in the barn. "I can't really see anyone."

A search throughout the barn proves that no tributes are here anymore, only dust and hay to be discovered in the barn. Zora curses in disgust as they exit the barn, walking back towards the fence and climbing over it. "We'll have to start searching the fields again. Why aren't there any tributes around here?"

"Maybe some went to the forest," Ajax offers, looking at the lowering sun in the sky. "I would if I was one of them. It's probably safer in these woods than in the fields. You have to go to the less inviting spots of the arena to truly find safety."

Zora nods tersely, struggling to keep her temper in check. "But we've wasted today. We have to go back to the supplies tonight and guard them. We better start leaving people behind at the cornucopia in case anyone thinks of raiding it."

The others nod in approval, walking behind Zora as they journey back to their campsite next to the cornucopia. There's no point in searching here anymore.

It's an unspoken truth that they've got to start stepping up their game fast. If they keep failing to grab kills, the audience will grow bored of them all.

He doesn't want to think about what might happen if they do. All he can think about is the fact that they're finally going back to the campsite.

It distracts him from the fact that he's going to die if they don't find someone to kill soon.

 **Ryker Underwood, 18, District Seven Male**

He hears the twelfth cannon boom as he runs through the wheat field, and all he can think of is his district partner.

Was it her who succumbed to their wounds in the river? Or was it the girl from Five who was the next to die, killed by Aris in their fight for survival? Oh, it has to be Aris. He can't imagine the alliance without her now.

Marshall shakes his head in sorrow as they slow down, punching his open palm with his other fist as he lets go of the bow and quiver of arrows strapped to his back. "We should have never left without her. We should have at least stayed to help. What kind of allies are we?"

"Bad ones," Ryker responds bitterly, shaking his head and trying to stop a tear trickle down his dry cheek and splash onto the ground. He doesn't want to lose Aris. Not after they lost Pax and Giovanna.

They're just as weak as any outliers now.

He hasn't wanted to admit that one of them would have to die eventually, that the number of tributes in the arena would soon force them to break away from the alliance, but the fact that Aris might be dead just cements that thought into his mind. What if it _is_ her? What if they're down to two?

Marshall stops in the middle of the field as they look towards the barn, a mass of colours gathered around the distance fence. "The careers are at the barn."

"So we can't go back there," answers Ryker, sighing inwardly and shaking his head. Another place taken away. Maybe they'll leave the barn alone soon enough, but it's most likely that they'll search around. And if they turn over any bales, they'll find the stash of supplies. Just the thought that the careers have searched the barn is enough to want to stay away from it. It's tainted now, in a sense. They won't be able to sleep there knowing that others realize that they might be in it.

He shakes his head as they crouch down in the field and wait for the careers to finish their search of the barn, huddling next to Marshall in the wheat. Marshall's just as tense as he is, keeping a well-trained eye on the barn before looking behind himself instinctively.

He stifles a yawn as they continue to wait, the dust around them starting to settle as the careers continue to search the barn. He whispers to Marshall, lowering his voice so that he satisfies an irrational fear that they might hear him speak out loud, even from the distance that they're hiding. "Will we grab the backpacks and supplies once they leave and find another place to settle down?"

"Yeah, we might have to go to the forest to do that," replies Marshall. "But we have to see if we can find Aris first."

Ryker nods, scratching his head and waiting for the careers to leave. The sun's now starting to fall slowly, the rays beaming at the two boys. It must be around four or five by now. No wonder he's starting to feel a bit hungry. But he hadn't thought of bringing food with him on their expedition along the river, and now he'll pay the price.

After what feels like an eternity to his impatient mind, the careers finally decide to leave the barn and hop back over the wooden fence. The boys wait for them to disappear back into the wheat fields before hopping out of their hiding position, looking towards the river. Marshall turns to Ryker, his face covered with dust and grime from crouching there so long. "Want to get rid of all of this dust?"

Ryker agrees, walking towards the river and stripping down to his underclothes before slipping into the river. "Mom and Dad never really taught me how to swim back home, but I learned how to float. I just can't go out too deep. There weren't any deep parts in the creeks around home. You'd be lucky to get up to your waist in the deepest parts."

"Oh, I swam all the time in the ponds back home," is the reply from Marshall as he jumps into the river. "Dad and Mom liked us swimming. It provides relief from the heat of the summer."

Ryker nods as he ducks his head under, smiling in relief from the cool of the river. It's been so hot today, he's just felt sticky through their trips in the wheat fields. "Do you think we'll see the boat in the river?"

The sound of a whirring hovercraft stops Marshall before he can reply, the large hovercraft whirring through the sky before dropping a hook into the river. Marshall gasps as a dripping wet body is lifted from the bottom of the river, the unmistakably blonde hair of the tribute sticking to the body. It's Aris.

Ryker yells in frustration, slapping the water and trying to control himself. But it won't change the fact that they've lost their ally. "Damn that girl!"

Marshall glares at the body, struggling not to curse himself. "Tomorrow, we're hunting for the girl from Five. Agreed?"

"Agreed." Ryker rises out of the river and puts his uniform back on, hatred coursing through his veins for the girl from Five. She _killed_ their friend! She killed Aris!

He won't rest until he gets revenge. It may be a horrid thing to think about, but he'll feel relief when he takes vengeance for Aris.

And it almost lets him forget that they're killing an innocent girl by remembering that she murdered his friend.

 **Another chapter before the end of September! I'm a wonderful person :3 Did you like it? I think there was plenty of drama today, and the careers are starting to get more tense with their kill-slump. We'll see if their plans come to fruition soon enough…**

 **Were you surprised by Aris' death? I think it was a pretty good one, and technically wasn't the cause of any tribute, giving a death to the arena! That's a novelty :3**

 **13th: Aris Orchards, District Seven Female; Drowned. Created by TheBestGemini**

Aris was a spunky tribute. She was plenty of fun to have in this story, especially with her interesting backstory and her positive nature. She had quite the entrance into this story with her nosebleed at the reapings, don't you think? Anyway, I didn't really connect with Aris; she kind of faded into the background for me. That's why she was the next to die, and I'm glad that she was an arena death. You need a few of those in your story! Also, the fact that Ashrifah didn't technically kill her will be fun to explore if the alliance of Marshall and Ryker successfully track her down… Thanks to TheBestGemini for Aris! It was nice to have her, and hopefully her death wasn't too disappointing for you if you're still reading.

 **And we're into the final twelve! Keep voting in the top eight poll if you haven't already done so, and note that submissions for my next full SYOT, Hiraeth, are open! Go to my profile and take the link there to the google form that will allow you to submit, and have fun! I hope I can get some of you to sub :3**

 **Rules/How to get Sponsor Points**

1st Tribute Submitted= 40 Points

2nd Tribute Submitted= 15 Points

3rd Tribute Submitted= 10 Points

4th Tribute Submitted= 5 Points

Newcomer and no tributes= 10 Points

 _Review (No Matter How Short or Long it is)= 5 Points_

 _Training Scores_

1= 5 Points/2= 5 Points

3= 5 Points/4= 10 Points

5= 10 Points/6= 10 Points

7= 15 Points/8= 15 Points

9= 15 Points/10= 20 Points

11= 25 Points/12= 30 Points

 **Sponsor Items and Value {Subject to change}**

Random & Useless Item: 1 Point

Live Animal: 20 Points

Crackers= 30 Points

1/2 Litre of Water= 50 Points

1 Litre of Water= 60 Points

1 Apple= 35 Points

Bread= 45 Points

Soup= 45 Points

Beef Jerky= 30 Points

Alcohol= 70 Points

Energy Drink= 35 Points

Steak Dinner= 70 Points

Custom Meal (Your Choice)= 85 Points

Cupcakes= 40 Points

Icecream= 50 Points

1 Egg= 35 Points

Bandages= 50 Points

First Aid Kit= 80 Points

Needle and Thread= 40 Points

Matches= 55 Points

Glass Bottle= 40 Points

Rags= 40 Points

Kerosene= 40 Points

Aspirin= 35 Points

Custom Medicine= 75 Points

Tent= 105 Points

Rubber Lifeboat= 100 Points

Sun Hat= 50 Points

Regular Knife= 40 Points

Strange Spyglass= 125 Points

1 Throwing Knife= 40 Points

Bow and 5 Arrows= 80 Points

1 Arrow= 35 Points

Sword= 75 Points

Spear= 70 Points

Mace= 65 Points

Axe= 70 Points

Hatchet= 60 Points

Trident= 80 Points

Sais= 65 Points

2 Daggers= 60 Points

Guaranteed Survival to the Final Three= 10 000 Points

 **Sponsor Points**

SilverflowerXRavenpaw= 20 Points

The Girl With The Knives= 190 Points

brooke2214= 105 Points

66samvr= 250 Points

GreyWolf44= 205 Points

Elim9= 115 Points

AmericanPI= 80 Points

TheBestGemini= 95 Points

HoshiNyanGirl= 40 Points

Yyvonee= 65 Points

Foxfaceisthebest= 55 Points

iridescenteverdeen= 120 Points

Kealimepie= 95 Points

District 9 Tribute= 80 Points

BladeIsMyPenname= 75 Points

BabyRue11= 45 Points

Sparky She-Demon= 45 Points

RoadieMcRoadface = 15 Points

Fanfiction Tribute= 15 Points

Ariel786= 15 Points

Kachhmir= 15 Points

 **KILL COUNT**

(Italicized are deceased tributes)

Taffeta Paisley, District One Female - 1 Kill  
Zora Stikander, District Two Female - 1 Kill  
Ajax Hollis, District Two Male - 1 Kill  
Keelan Spinnaker, District Four Male - 1 Kill  
Ashrifah Keyaut, District Five Female - 2 Kills  
Ryker Underwood, District Seven Male - 1 Kill  
 _Paxton Webb, District Nine Male - 1 Kill  
_ Giovanna Fillinfini, District Nine Female - 1 Kill  
Marshall Furr, District Ten Male - 1 Kill  
Arena - 2 Kills

 **DISTRICT PLACEMENTS**

District One  
District Two  
District Three  
District Four  
District Five  
District Six  
District Seven  
District Nine  
District Ten  
District Twelve  
11th: District Eleven  
12th: District Eight

 **Here are the alliances, so that we're all on the same page ;)**

Careers: Taffeta, Zora, Ajax, Keelan, Isa

Anti-Ashrifah™: Marshall, Ryker

Rebels against puberty: Shawn, Bernard

Loners: Ashrifah, Giovanna, Moon

The Dead: Lincoln, Tony, Hollister, Nehemiah, Wyatt, Cornelia, Carol, Paxton, Pepper, Mira, Luxx, Monique, Aris

 **Only Silver has taken advantage of the sponsor system thus far, so choose wisely and quickly! The value for each gift may rise as the games continue… So send in supplies for your tributes quickly! I hope you liked this chapter, and please read and review! It means a lot to me :33 Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	33. Day III: There's Always Time To Die

**Giovanna Fillinfini, 18, District Nine Female**

She yawns as the sunlight filters into her fort, rubbing her eyes blearily and looking around her little home. There shouldn't be sunlight coming in. She's going to have to fix those cracks in the sides sooner or later because she's not counting out a storm coming and ruining all of her hard work.

But her fort is coming along well now, the long logs having been all put in place as her walls and the roof covered completely with thick sticks and pine needles. She's confident in it so far, but she still wants another layer on the roof and the sides before she'll finish the fort. She's not going to let herself get caught in the rain like that.

She steps out of the fort and looks up at the treetops, glimpsing the sun filter in through the thick leaves. It's easier to spot it now that she's spent a few days in the forest. She's been enjoying it so far, exploring the woods for edible roots and berries - found in a bunch of raspberry bushes near the border between the fields and the forest - and hauling back heavy logs that would do well in her fort. And when she goes far away enough from the fort, it blends in with the rest of the woods. She won't be noticed by anyone in the arena.

That doesn't stop her from looking over her shoulder every time she hears a noise, trembling in her fort as the night sounds drift in. It's like everything's been magnified ever since Paxton's death, turning Giovanna into a paranoid mess.

No, she's not going to think of her district partner today. It's her third day in the arena! She can't spoil it by remembering her wrongdoings.

But she can still see him when she shuts her eyes at night.

A blind wave comes over her once more and she huddles in a fetal position, ignoring the sounds of the forest. Every time she goes blind, her mind transforms the chatter of a squirrel into the chuckle of a career, and every stick that cracks becomes a tree branch ready to fall onto her. It's times like these that she wishes she was back in the fields.

But no, it would do no good to remain out in the fields where she would only be sliced to bits by the careers. She hasn't even heard another tribute since she made it into the forest. She's sticking it out in the woods, even if every wave of blindness makes her feel like she's about to meet her death.

A beeping of what could be a parachute causes her to gasp, impatiently waiting for her vision to return so that she can see if it's truly a gift from a kind Capitolite that awaits her. And when she blinks and sees the treetops once more, a parachute gently lands on the forest floor, a large nine adorning the container. Yes!

She quickly moves towards the parachute and opens up the container, a large spyglass resting atop of the velvety inside. She picks it up curiously and peers through it, her fingers fidgeting across the wooden sides. "What are _you_ supposed to do?"

Her finger catches a switch on the side and the spyglass seems to _explode_ , a puff of orange dust enveloping Giovanna as she gasps in surprise. Her open mouth draws in the dust and she coughs wildly, trying to catch her breath.

"What was that?" she mutters, looking back at the parachute. It better not be poisonous. Oh Panem, it's poisonous, isn't it? She's probably going to die from a sponsor gift.

A small note is attached to the spyglass, and she tears it off to read the message. Maybe it'll reveal why she's been attacked by this dusty stuff.

 _You did nothing wrong. It was self defense. Falcon._

She tears up at the note and shudders in relief, rocking herself back and forth on the forest floor. She can't even _express_ how much she needed to hear that.

She did nothing wrong. It's not her fault that Pax attacked her. It's not her fault.

She smiles through her tears and takes the parachute back to the fort, tucking the spyglass into a hollow portion of the wall that she's decided to use for gathering supplies. She can use the parachute as something to gather food in, and the container will be a great storage container. Even if the spyglass is nothing, she's still gained a lot from her sponsor gift.

She stands up and walks out of the fort, grabbing her spear and heading in a new direction for her morning walk. She's hoping to find a water source today. She needs to get water soon, especially since her lone water bottle is starting to dry up quickly. If she can find some without having to hope for a sponsor, she'll be perfectly fine in this arena.

She jumps over a rock and sniffs the fresh air, trying to see if she can find water. She's seen tributes from Four find water in the arena by just sniffing for it, and she had always asked her father if she'd be able to do the same. He always responded negatively, tousling her hair and looking at the television as the careers found another tribute to tear apart. She hopes that he's wrong.

She looks to her left side and scans the forest, hoping to see some pool of water reflect in the distance. There _is_ the river far on the other side of the arena, but she'd risk an encounter with the careers if she went there. It's best to remain in the woods. She sniffs again, vainly searching for water. It has to be close, it _has_ to!

But she soon gives up, walking back in the direction of the fort. Maybe she'll find some later. Right now, she should remain calm and avoid doing anything foolish. She has to preserve herself so she doesn't drink all of her water up too quickly.

But then she hears a howl.

 **Keelan Spinnaker, 17, District Four Male**

The careers are restless today.

They've been sitting around the cornucopia, waiting for their daily hunt, but none of them have been willing to go just yet. They're all hesitant to leave the supplies alone for such a long period of time.

It's likely best to leave someone behind, but no one's volunteered themselves for the position. Maybe it's because of the thought of being alone, or maybe others are being driven to kill and prove their place in the pack, but they've all silently eaten breakfast - cooked by Isa once more - and sat around the empty fire pit, honing their blades and looking over the thorn bushes at the arena.

Maybe Bastion and Misty are watching right now. They're probably sitting by the small television they had scavenged from the dump to watch the Games, waiting to see if Keelan was going to win these Games or if Bastion was going to volunteer next year. After all, the pact was that they'd all volunteer until one of them would win, and he knows that they'll uphold their ends of the bargain.

He just hopes he won't let them down.

Ajax slips on a wet patch of grass and Keelan snickers at the clumsy career, leaping forward to help him back up. "You okay? Looking a bit surprised, Jax."

Ajax laughs, brushing off the wet grass clinging to his pants as he stands back up onto his feet. "I'm just going to be labeled as the clumsiest person in this arena, am I? I might as well accept it by now. Make sure to get a shirt with me on my face ready for sales, Capitol stores!" he suddenly shouts to the sky, grinning widely as he sits back down.

Keelan snorts in laughter and follows Ajax, grabbing his spear to clean it off. There might not be any blood on it right now, but there's a lot of dirt, dust, and grass sticking to the weapon. And he's got to keep it looking professional.

Zora stands up and claps her hands together, smiling at her fellow careers as they look towards her. "I figure it's time to start hunting today. We'll head to the woods and search along the perimeter, searching for tributes before circling back to the cornucopia. But we've got to choose someone to stay here. Any volunteers?"

Everyone looks at each other nervously, clearing their throats and looking down at the ground before Taffeta raises her hand. "I'm willing to remain here to guard the supplies. Tomorrow it can be Isa, then Keelan, and so on. We can take daily shifts so everyone gets a taste of the action."

Keelan nods with the rest of the careers at Taffeta's idea, twirling his spear and readying himself to go on the hunt. The others soon grab their weapons and wave goodbye to Taffeta before walking into the thorny tunnel, Isa yelping as she sits down. "I'm blind."

Everyone nods and waits impatiently for her vision to return, Zora tapping her sais together in boredom as they wait for Isa's vision to return. It comes back in a minute and they start off once more, walking along the thorn line to the forest. It's finally time to start hunting.

Zora is at the front of the pack as they loudly make their way towards the dark forest, Ajax talking to her about the academy in Two as they continue to move along the path. Keelan slows to walk beside Isa, waiting patiently for the girl from Six to catch up to him. She's not as fit as the rest of them, after all. But she might be good company to have on the hunt.

He smiles politely and twirls his spear in the air as Isa walks beside him, clearing his throat and looking towards the smaller girl. "So, how are you enjoying the arena?"

Isa breathes deeply as she returns his gaze, a peaceful look on her face. "As much as a girl who's fighting for her life and has to eat what she makes can enjoy the arena. I _do_ wish that I was back in Six. My neighbourhood was very peaceful."

"I thought that Six was just a large city. How do you get a peaceful neighbourhood like that?" Keelan inquires, stiffening as a rabbit darts from the bushes before relaxing his grip on his spear.

"Oh, there's _three_ cities in Six. I live in the capital city with my parents, and so did Tony before he died." The girl seems surprisingly calm about the death of her district partner. It does make sense, considering the abuse they hurled back and forth in training. He still remembers Tony hurling epithets at Isa as she attempted to make a fire - with the stones he was using. "There's a few subdivisions for factory owners in my city, and I live in one of the larger houses. Not perfect, but it was homey. We _did_ have a few unsavoury neighbours in the eastern end of the neighbourhood. Morphling addicts and alcoholics, the whole lot of them. That's why I created the District Six Community Watch."

She brandishes her badge, the worn piece of metal gleaming faintly in the sun. "I'm the leader."

Keelan nods, struggling to keep back a bark of laughter. The girl's a little peacekeeper in training! "I'm an orphan. At least I think. My folks left during the Dark Days, and no one's claimed me except for my grandfather since."

"Oh." Isa purses her lips in thought and looks up at him, tightening her grip on the knife she had taken from the cornucopia. "I guess you haven't had quite the life I've had."

"I guess not."

 **Ashrifah Kayeut, 16, District Five Female**

There's no one in the fields that she can find. She'll have to start searching the forest.

She spits into the endless fields of wheat, trampling the fine stalks as she heads towards the forest. She's only got her bare hands to use from now on - the girl from Seven was to account for that - but that won't make too much of a difference. It only means that her kills might get a bit messy.

There's only one problem - there isn't anyone in this damned arena to kill. Where have they all disappeared to?

She tried to look for the boys with the girl from Seven after she had crashed the boat into the riverbank, but they had managed to disappear into the wheat as well. Cowards, both of them. It was too bad that she hadn't managed to kill the girl herself. The tribute had tripped into the water and drowned before Ashrifah had gotten a chance to strangle her with the steering wheel.

She continues her path to the woods, gritting her teeth as she stubs her foot on a rock. She's not having the best of days. If she had her mace, she'd probably swing it in the air and smash the wretched rock to bits, but she can only get the satisfaction of tossing it out of view and into the fields. It's still not as satisfying as smashing it.

She laments the fact that she lost her mace once more, shaking her head and swearing angrily. She's going to have to find another weapon, but she won't find a mace. She looked through that cornucopia during the bloodbath, and there was only the one mace for her to take and attack others with. At least she managed to get that good kill on the girl from Four. That managed to get her a sponsor the other day, a gift of warm stew that she gobbled up eagerly. It was good to have a sponsor in this arena. Maybe she'll get a mace from one of them if she can get another kill.

Then it's settled. If she can find another tribute, she'll draw out the death so that she can manage to get sponsors. The gorier, the better. That's what the Capitol always likes.

She curses as a wave of blindness comes over her, the familiar darkness resting over her eyes and stopping her from seeing anything in the arena. She stops and stands still, trying to keep her balance as she waits for it to subside. It should finish pretty quickly if she's lucky. That's all she can hope for. She's only got so much time to find a tribute to kill before she gets hungry again.

She falls to her knees as she feels a gust of wind hit her in the chest, yelping in surprise and trying to stand back up. By now, she can see again, and the wind has started to pick up. Come to think of it, she can see storm clouds on the horizon. It looks like a storm might be coming to the arena pretty soon. She'll have to find a place to shelter when it does happen. She's not going to get caught in the rain when she's the strongest tribute in this arena.

She reaches the forest and walks along the side, her eyes searching for tributes to kill. If they're hiding like she thinks they would be, they'll be close enough to the edge of the forest to see the light and still feel safe. And if they are, she'll finish them off through a slow, painful process.

It doesn't really scare her to think that she's a murderer. Maybe the other tributes don't like the thought that they're actively murdering other children, but she loves the adrenaline that it gives her. She doesn't feel anymore alive than standing next to the corpse of her victim.

She should have realized this before she left to the Games. She might have been able to have a few test runs on citizens around her neighbourhood before the Games. But that's all in the past. She just has to try to get her kicks in while she can.

It's going to be weird being a victor. She'd rather stay in the arena, it's much more exciting here. She doesn't want to feel like she has nothing to live for as a victor. Maybe she'll be allowed to take back a few avoxes. That would be nice. It would help with the boredom that would inevitably come with being a victor. And she doesn't want to be bored.

A rustle from the forest her causes her to look up eagerly, searching for a tribute that she can tear to pieces. Maybe it's the boy from Twelve, he'd be an easy kill. But it would be fun to kill anyone right now. After all, it'll get her sponsors.

But it's not a weak outlier that emerges from the forest. It's the girl from Two, and she looks eager to kill.

That's when Ashrifah realizes that it might not be such a good idea to fight the careers by herself.

She takes a step towards the girl before seeing the sais in her hand, gleaming in the sun and sharp enough to slice her in half without any effort. The silver blades don't scare Ashrifah at first, but the appearance of the boy from Two, the boy from Four, and the girl from Six - wait, what is the girl from Six doing with the careers? - that frightens her into taking a step back. Then the girl from Two yells at the other careers and they begin to charge, ready to kill her as easily as they can breathe.

It's the first time Ashrifah ever runs from a fight. But she doesn't regret it.

 **Zora Stikander, 16, District Two Female**

She charges after the girl from Five, yelling wildly with the rest of the careers and brandishing her sais as they prepare to catch her. Finally! Finally another tribute! Another kill!

She whoops in delight as they continue to chase after the girl, Keelan laughing in delight as he holds his spear in his hands. The girl's too far away to risk throwing their weapons at her, but they'll gain on her soon enough. It's almost certain. Oh, she's finally going to get another kill!

The chase has transformed all of their moods. They had been tired, worried before they had spotted the girl in the fields, but now they're all caught up in the delight of the chase. Killing her will be their chance to get more sponsors, their chance for attention, and another step closer to victory. It'll definitely boost morale, that is certain. Even if she doesn't get the kill, she'll still be okay with it. As long as they get this kill.

The girl slams into a tree branch and lets it ricochet back towards the careers, Zora quickly ducking and continuing the chase. Ajax manages to dodge it as well, but Keelan gets slapped by the branch in the face and falls to the ground as Isa races ahead of him. He'll get back to them soon enough, but that's one less tribute that can help them get the girl for now. And they're almost close enough to nail her with a spear!

As they continue to run, Isa slowly begins to fall behind the pair from Two. She slows down to Keelan's pace as Ajax and Zora continue to chase after the girl from Five, trying to catch her breath once more and get back up to her allies. But Zora's not slowing down for anything. Not for her allies, not for a weapon, not for -

A wave of blindness comes over Zora and she faceplants into the ground, her sais being tossed to the side as she remembers her training. She's got to get rid of them so she can't stab herself in the stomach. That's not how she's going to go.

Ajax stops and crouches down next to her, his heavy breathing echoing in her ear as he helps her to her feet. "Are you okay?"

"Why aren't you chasing her?" Zora shouts, pointing blindly towards where she thinks the girl from Five has run to. "We could have gotten a kill, but you had to stop and help me!"

"We can't abandon you like that. You waited for us, so we'll wait for you." Keelan's confident voice drifts through the crowd of her allies, causing her to shake her head in anger. He's stopped as well. Great. Just great.

Her vision takes another minute to come back, but she spends every second in a furious mood. Her allies are dimwits. Why would they stop and help her when they could eliminate the competition? She wouldn't have helped them if they had gone blind in this moment, it was every tribute for themselves. She would have gone and killed the girl from Five, that's what she would have done. Her allies are idiots.

Her anger begins to cool down as she regains her vision, reaching for her abandoned sais and looking in the direction of the girl from Five. She's vanished now, likely into the thick woods where they won't have a chance of finding her. Great. Just great. But she smiles slightly as she sees the relieved glances on her allies' faces, all looking anxiously towards her. At least they'll support her now.

A shrill beeping interrupts her train of thought and all look up to the sky to see a parachute drifting down. It lands softly in the wheat, a large six proving that it's for Isa, not the other careers. Isa frowns and picks it up, gingerly shaking it to see if she can figure out what it is. "If it's a sprinkle again, I _swear_..."

But it's a large container of creamy, sweet chocolate ice cream, complete with steel bowls for all of the careers. Keelan cries out in delight and grabs the large scoop, doling out helpings to the rest of the careers. "Oh man, you struck it lucky, Isa!"

"I thought Doug would be out of his mind on morphling," mutters Isa as she digs into her bowl. "Maybe he's actually going to try to help me. Maybe..."

Zora ignores Isa's musings, eating from her own bowl. So what if the girl has a difficult mentor? Zora's got three reliable mentors, all willing to help her in the Games. She's just got to wait for them to give her something that's actually useful. Maybe they'll get themselves together soon. She's in the mood for something like Isa's package.

The mood soon relaxes as they all start to finish their bowls, Keelan and Ajax taking a second helping before a protesting Isa takes more for herself. Zora slowly eats her own bowl, savouring the sweet, chocolatey flavour of the ice cream. The others might not realize how to properly enjoy this meal, but she's sure going to. After all, it might be the last of it's kind in the arena.

Another beeping sound fills the air, and Keelan reaches up to grab the package. "It's for one of you, Twos."

Ajax takes the package before Zora has a chance to grab it from his steady fingers, opening it carefully and staring inside. "Oh - it's the shirt! The shirt! The shirt!"

The others look at the package to see a dark silhouette of one of Ajax's falls on a shirt, his messy hair sticking up from the green fabric. Zora barks in laughter as she takes it out of the container, throwing it to Ajax. "Put it on! Put it on!"

The other careers join in the chant, and Ajax willingly puts on the shirt. "Well, looks like I'm famous. I expect many royalties!"

They all laugh and stand back up, Isa putting the empty container of ice cream onto the ground and into the parachute. "Well, should we make our way back to the cornucopia?"

Zora nods, looking at the sun moving through the sky as she starts to move. "We should. But tomorrow, if someone goes blind in a chase, only one waits behind to help them. We're not losing a chase like that again, got it?"

The others nod, and they all begin the long walk to the cornucopia. But Zora's not feeling angry anymore about the chase.

She feels like she's at home.

 **Shawn Andersen, 14, District Three Male**

He's not sure if this is going to work, but he's definitely going to hope that it does.

The finished Tesla coil is in front of the exhausted boys, shooting out sparks because his clumsy fingers had bent the spark gap when he had tried to push it onto the machine along with Bernard. It's taken the whole night to make, but now they have the finished product.

They just have to see if it will work. Because if it doesn't, their rebel movement will be royally screwed.

Bernard yawns widely, and Shawn does as well as his vision starts to blur. "I can't believe that it took the whole night to make."

"But now we have our weapon!" Bernard perks up at the thought, rubbing his eyes and looking blearily at the Tesla coil. "You said that it would incapa... incapacitate someone if we used it on them, right?"

"Wyatt would have known the specifics," Shawn yawns, the sun starting to set in the distance. "But I'm pretty sure that it will work. It _has_ to."

A twinge of guilt runs through him for not telling Bernard the full truth about the Tesla coil, but Shawn pushes it aside as he stands up and stretches. He'll tell him when they manage to break their trackers and escape the arena. Right now, he just has to make sure he can keep Bernard's trust. It's the only thing he can really do when they're a sixth of the remaining competition.

Bernard rolls over onto his side and looks up at the ceiling of the house they found in the middle of the river, twiddling his thumbs idly. "At least no one's going to even think of searching for us in here. Who's going to swim over to this house after we broke the bridge? The careers?"

"I hope not." Shawn shudders at the thought and walks out of the room, heading towards the tiny kitchen. He opens the refrigerator absentmindedly, but just as it was ten minutes ago, the fridge is still empty. He continues his rounds of the kitchen, opening up cupboards in the hopes that new food will somehow materialize for them to devour. It might be strange, but it's helping him to cope with his hungry stomach.

Bernard walks into the kitchen with a backpack, emptying out the sparse food onto the counter. "Only a few tins of surprise food left. We're going to have to find it somewhere else, or just plain starve. I don't feel like starving today"

"There are cows out there..." Shawn's voice trails off as he vetoes the thought, remembering that the cows are likely engineered by the game makers to kill them all off. No point in trying to kill one of them for food when the others would just trample the two tweens.

"We need sponsors or to go fishing." Bernard nods at his statement, looking towards the fishing rod leaning in the corner of the room. They haven't tried to use it yet, but it would definitely help them in their quest for food. After all, they're on a tiny island in the middle of a river. There's _got_ to be some fish in the water!

Shawn touches the fishing rod, hesitantly picking it up and opening the door before closing it. "We should go out the other way, just in case anyone sees us in here. We don't want anyone getting ideas about taking our place."

Bernard nods, scampering through the hall like an eager squirrel and popping the screen frame of one of the windows. Bernard crawls through and takes the fishing rod when it's Shawn's turn, waiting patiently for the larger boy to weasel his way through the window. "Could I go first?"

"Sure!" Shawn falls onto the grass and winces, his shoulder beginning to throb as Bernard grins in delight and prepares to cast his rod. The first cast lands harmlessly in the reeds surrounding the tiny island, and Bernard wades in to grab the line before trying again. The line goes further this time, the bait landing out of the reeds and in the calm river. "Good job, Bernard!"

Bernard smiles and waits patiently for a fish to bite. About five seconds pass before his attention span is up and he hands it to Shawn, squirming back into the house to grab something. "I'll be back in a minute!"

Shawn waves goodbye absentmindedly and waits for a bite, his eyelids drooping as he watches the line bob in the middle of the river. It's pretty relaxing to fish. If he had been born in Four, he would have loved to do this all day. There was something so _calming_ about standing and waiting to see if his efforts will pay off…

A sudden jolt of electricity causes him to jump in the air, falling into the water as his arm pierces in pain. Oh oh oh oh oh-oh what's happening?

His face slips under the water and he chokes on a mouthful of muddy reeds before he forces his body back above the water. His arm is starting to throb steadily now, but he can feel the pain starting to recede. What does that mean?

Bernard shouts in pain inside of the house, running to the window and climbing out to see Shawn. "I'm sorry - I touched the coil - I didn't mean to - are you okay?"

Shawn looks down in wonder at his arm, a burning white mark beginning to appear in the middle of his pale skin. "I'm okay. But Bernard, you did something that we have to act on soon."

"What?" Bernard cocks his head in confusion as he looks at Shawn, a questioning look appearing on his face. "Was there something wrong with the coil? Did we mess it up because of the spark thingy that we broke?"

Shawn shakes his head, his tracker burning inside of his arm. "Bernard, we broke our trackers. _The game makers can't see us now._ "

 **Technically they can, but they still can't be tracked with anything but cameras. Score!**

 **Another chapter! And in September! Huzzah! Are you proud of me? Anyway, no deaths today. Exciting!**

 **KILL COUNT**

(Italicized are deceased tributes)

Taffeta Paisley, District One Female - 1 Kill  
Zora Stikander, District Two Female - 1 Kill  
Ajax Hollis, District Two Male - 1 Kill  
Keelan Spinnaker, District Four Male - 1 Kill  
Ashrifah Keyaut, District Five Female - 2 Kills  
Ryker Underwood, District Seven Male - 1 Kill  
 _Paxton Webb, District Nine Male - 1 Kill  
_ Giovanna Fillinfini, District Nine Female - 1 Kill  
Marshall Furr, District Ten Male - 1 Kill  
Arena - 2 Kills

 **DISTRICT PLACEMENTS**

District One  
District Two  
District Three  
District Four  
District Five  
District Six  
District Seven  
District Nine  
District Ten  
District Twelve  
11th: District Eleven  
12th: District Eight

 **Here are the alliances, so that we're all on the same page ;)**

Careers: Taffeta, Zora, Ajax, Keelan, Isa

Anti-Ashrifah™: Marshall, Ryker

Rebels against puberty: Shawn, Bernard

Loners: Ashrifah, Giovanna, Moon

The Dead: Lincoln, Tony, Hollister, Nehemiah, Wyatt, Cornelia, Carol, Paxton, Pepper, Mira, Luxx, Monique, Aris

 **The sponsor points haven't changed, so I won't post them this time. Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed this lapse in deaths! Day Four won't be the same, I can promise you that… remember that subs for Hiraeth are still open! Link on my profile! Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	34. A Choice

**Selena Arthtome, 27, Assistant Gamemaker**

The mood is tense today.

She had spent Day Two and most of Day Three at home with her nephew, catching up on sleep and trying to block out the fact that she had to come back for today, but time at home always flew by faster than she wanted it to. Now she's back here, armed with some of the strongest energy drinks that the Capitol can offer and a few pills that promise to keep users awake for days upon end. She's as ready for this shift as she can ever be.

The game makers on shift are scurrying around the large room, the collosal, three-dimensional map of the arena flickering slightly as other game makers make sure that the camera feed is still working for all parts of the arena. The holograms are holding up astonishingly well considering the power surges that the room had experienced on Day One. Just another reason for them to have back up generators in the next room over.

"Seven and Ten are moving towards the woods," shouts a game maker watching the outer-district alliance. "Should we keep the wolf pack away from them or have them run into the mutts?"

"They're hunting the girl from Five. We're guiding them in her direction," barks Hiram from his position in the gallery above the room, pacing on the metal walkway and pointing at the river. "Will that be swelling when the storm hits Day Five?"

"It will indeed!" cries a game maker on Weather Control, standing to attention for Hiram. "It'll take a few days, possibly up to a week for it to overtake the entire arena, but we've got high hopes for it. It'll certainly impede some of the tributes in the days to come."

Hiram nods, yawning widely as Selena walks up to the gallery. "You're five minutes early. I'll be leaving now, just make sure that everything goes to plan. We don't need any needless deaths until the Seven-Ten and Five fight."

Selena nods, looking towards the end of the room as Hiram checks the monitor watching the boys from Three and Twelve. He nods curtly and moves out of the room, the mood immediately relaxing as he exits through the heavy doors. Game makers start chatting freely to one another and a few climb up to the walkway with Selena, watching the activity on the lower level. "Selena, the girl from Twelve's been making traps throughout the fields. Should we encourage this behaviour, or collapse the three holes to warn her?"

Selena looks down at the footage of the girl from Twelve, Moon huddling for warmth in the fields as she tries to get dry once more from the river fiasco. "We could… we could _use_ those holes of Moon's for greater purposes. Actually… could I get an arena control game maker over here, please?"

The game maker appears quickly, ready to follow Selena's instruction. "You asked for me, Ms. Arthtome?"

Selena nods, pointing at Moon. "I want all three of her holes deepened to around twelve feet, keeping as many of the stakes intact and upright as we can manage. If anyone falls in, it'll still be her kills; we just helped increase the fatality of those traps."

The game maker nods and scurries back down to the main level, going to arena contorl and typing something in. She isn't exactly sure how the man will manage it, but one way or another, Moon will have her traps deepened three-fold.

It feels good to be back up in the walkway. She's forgotten the power she gets to hold when she's up here, up at the top of the Control Room.

She won't forget so easily again.

 **Ashira Marlstone, 27, District Twelve, Victor of the Fifth Hunger Games**

The mentors are much more serious in here than the last time she had set foot in this room.

She doesn't like standing in this small little box and waiting impatiently for sponsors to send in money. Hmph. Wasn't like that back in the fifth Games, both Clay and Maddie had told her that the prices of sponsor gifts were much lower and that they could donate portions of money themselves to their tribute's fund back in Ashira's Games. No wonder she hadn't received that much in the arena compared to others, even though it was huge compared to what outer-district tributes managed to get now. Pollux wouldn't give a penny to anyone who dared to even breathe in his vicinity.

She sighs and stares at Olive and Bernard, both of her tributes making their way through the arena or standing around in the house. The tributes are both Seam this year, their olive tones showing easily on their skin and their dark hair hanging over their sweaty faces. She hadn't even met them, only seeing the reapings from her hidden vantage point in the section of the square where victors watch the reapings.

But right now, she'll do anything for them to survive these Games.

Olive seems good for now, her supplies holding well and her traps ready to catch any unsuspecting tribute. She doesn't need any help from Ashira right now. It's Bernard who has caught the victor's attention, the small boy still with his ally in the tiny little house on that island in the middle of the river. But now the two are whispering furiously behind the house, the voices drifting from her screens in such small tones that she has to strain to hear them both. "Trackers… broken… game makers… escape…"

She lurches back from her screens and cries aloud in astonishment, causing a few of the newer victors to look back at her. They haven't met her yet - not really - and they might still believe that she's got a touch of the 'madness' that Capitol tabloids had pegged as the reason she hadn't mentored for so long.

Is Bernard planning an escape? Is he doing it with that Shawn? Panem help her, she has no idea how to handle this situation. On one hand, she could report this conversation to the game makers. But they might have already heard it and are preparing to enact punishment on the tributes.

No, she'll leave it be. If they escape, so be it. She's not involved in it anyway, safe in the mentor's room where she can't be accused of treason by anyone.

Yet there's a small voice in the back of her head, prodding her to send something to them to show that she approves of this escape. She should pick a side. She's not supporting the Capitol - she had pushed away from them years ago - but there's something that might just be,well, _hope_ in this plan.

And she's going to let it catch flame.

 **Another chapter! I'm a great person, even if you might have been expecting Day Four instead. But don't worry, this is important to subplot and all of that. How is Ashira for you guys so far?**

 **Rules/How to get Sponsor Points**

1st Tribute Submitted= 40 Points

2nd Tribute Submitted= 15 Points

3rd Tribute Submitted= 10 Points

4th Tribute Submitted= 5 Points

Newcomer and no tributes= 10 Points

 _Review (No Matter How Short or Long it is)= 5 Points_

 _Training Scores_

1= 5 Points/2= 5 Points

3= 5 Points/4= 10 Points

5= 10 Points/6= 10 Points

7= 15 Points/8= 15 Points

9= 15 Points/10= 20 Points

11= 25 Points/12= 30 Points

 **Sponsor Items and Value {Subject to change}**

Random & Useless Item: 6 Point

Live Animal: 25 Points

Crackers= 35 Points

1/2 Litre of Water= 55 Points

1 Litre of Water= 65 Points

1 Apple= 40 Points

Bread= 50 Points

Soup= 50 Points

Beef Jerky= 35 Points

Alcohol= 75 Points

Energy Drink= 40 Points

Steak Dinner= 75 Points

Custom Meal (Your Choice)= 90 Points

Cupcakes= 45 Points

Icecream= 55 Points

1 Egg= 40 Points

Bandages= 55 Points

First Aid Kit= 85 Points

Needle and Thread= 45 Points

Matches= 60 Points

Glass Bottle= 45 Points

Rags= 45 Points

Kerosene= 45 Points

Aspirin= 40 Points

Custom Medicine= 80 Points

Tent= 110 Points

Rubber Lifeboat= 105 Points

Sun Hat= 55 Points

Regular Knife= 45 Points

Strange Spyglass= 130 Points

1 Throwing Knife= 45 Points

Bow and 5 Arrows= 85 Points

1 Arrow= 40 Points

Sword= 80 Points

Spear= 80 Points

Mace= 70 Points

Axe= 70 Points

Hatchet= 65 Points

Trident= 85 Points

Sais= 70 Points

2 Daggers= 65 Points

Guaranteed Survival to the Final Three= 10 005 Points

 **Sponsor Points**

SilverflowerXRavenpaw= 25 Points

The Girl With The Knives= 200 Points

brooke2214= 110 Points

66samvr= 260 Points

GreyWolf44= 215 Points

Elim9= 115 Points

AmericanPI= 90 Points

TheBestGemini= 95 Points

HoshiNyanGirl= 40 Points

Yyvonee= 65 Points

Foxfaceisthebest= 55 Points

iridescenteverdeen= 120 Points

Kealimepie= 95 Points

District 9 Tribute= 80 Points

BladeIsMyPenname= 80 Points

BabyRue11= 45 Points

Sparky She-Demon= 45 Points

RoadieMcRoadface = 15 Points

Fanfiction Tribute= 15 Points

Ariel786= 15 Points

Kachhmir= 15 Points

 **KILL COUNT**

(Italicized are deceased tributes)

Taffeta Paisley, District One Female - 1 Kill  
Zora Stikander, District Two Female - 1 Kill  
Ajax Hollis, District Two Male - 1 Kill  
Keelan Spinnaker, District Four Male - 1 Kill  
Ashrifah Keyaut, District Five Female - 2 Kills  
Ryker Underwood, District Seven Male - 1 Kill  
 _Paxton Webb, District Nine Male - 1 Kill  
_ Giovanna Fillinfini, District Nine Female - 1 Kill  
Marshall Furr, District Ten Male - 1 Kill  
Arena - 2 Kills

 **DISTRICT PLACEMENTS**

District One  
District Two  
District Three  
District Four  
District Five  
District Six  
District Seven  
District Nine  
District Ten  
District Twelve  
11th: District Eleven  
12th: District Eight

 **Here are the alliances, so that we're all on the same page ;)**

Careers: Taffeta, Zora, Ajax, Keelan, Isa

Anti-Ashrifah™: Marshall, Ryker

Rebels against puberty: Shawn, Bernard

Loners: Ashrifah, Giovanna, Moon

The Dead: Lincoln, Tony, Hollister, Nehemiah, Wyatt, Cornelia, Carol, Paxton, Pepper, Mira, Luxx, Monique, Aris

 **Sponsor points all move up five points for each item today, so remember that when you buy things. It'll keep going up during the games...**

 **Enjoy this chapter! I'm getting close to halfway through the next chapter, so that's good :D Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	35. Day IV: The Long Drop

**Ryker Underwood, 18, District Seven Male**

He doesn't like the night.

The stars are shining still, the sun refusing to rise and start off the fourth day in this arena. Marshall is still slumbering next to him, snoring steadily as he tries to catch some sleep before it's his turn to keep watch. Then again, there's only one more shift before morning comes. They don't have long before they have to keep moving.

A rustle in the fields causes him to shiver, clutching his axe close to him as he sits in the shoulder-high wheat. He doesn't think that any tributes will be combing through the arena at night - other than the careers, perhaps, but that still doesn't mean that they aren't. He's got to stay alert as he possibly can. If not, he might be the next one to die.

Ryker's not going to die.

He wonders if Bella is watching. His twin has never liked the Games, but she cares about him, that much he knows. She might be watching alongside her parents, anxiously hoping that he can continue to survive through the days. But then again, she might be asleep by now. He's got no idea what time it is in the arena, let alone in Seven. All he can hope is that she still cares about him. Of course, she does! She's his twin sister, after all! And she's forced to watch the Games anyway. She'll see him fight, she's likely seen everything from the bloodbath to Aris.

Sabrina should be watching as well. His girlfriend should still be in her house, watching the small television that they have in the corner as she hopes against hope that he can make it to the next day.

He hopes so too.  
A rustle in the bushes startles him and he stands up, looking to see if anything is skulking around the small camp that they've taken up in the middle of the fields. But nothing is around the perimeter that he travels, only the sound of a bird flying through the night. He's still safe.

Of course he is. He's overreacting, that's all. The arena's gotten to him. Perhaps he'll go mad, like the old lumberjacks in Seven who claim to have seen will'-o-the-wisps floating through the forests surrounding the Capital of Seven. There aren't any in the woods, of course, but it still couldn't stop him from looking around him whenever he saw a light in the woods during one of the night shifts. He's got to keep calm and continue to survive. That's the only thing he can focus on right now, not silly noises around the camp.

He looks into the distance and sees what might be the sun just barely starting to rise, sending the first small rays of light into the fields. Ryker rolls over and pokes Marshall, not stopping until the tired boy wakes up. "Your turn to guard."

Ryker doesn't wait for Marshall to take position, curling up on the ground and using one of the backpacks as a pillow for his weary head. He doesn't even dream as he falls asleep, he's too tired to. He's just trying to scavenge as much energy as he can for the day.

The next thing Ryker knows, the sun is out and Marshall is pulling him onto his feet. "It's been a while since you went to sleep. I figure we should get moving, you know? It's full morning."

Ryker nods blearily and rubs his eyes, feeling a sore spot in his back he must have slept on a rock. Darn it. "I guess I'm ready. Moving around will do me good. Are we going to the woods today?"

"Of course. No point in remaining in the fields any longer when we've searched almost every bit of them." Marshall sets off first for the dark forests, leaving Ryker to grab a backpack and scurry after him. The two settle into a quick gait, almost jogging their way to the forests. Marshall grins as they reach the edge of the fields after a few minutes of quick walking, turning around to look at Ryker. "You ready to do this?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," Ryker replies, quickly walking into the forest alongside Marshall. He blinks as his eyes adjust to the darker environment, his pupils dilating so that he can see better in the forest. "Wow, dark in here."

"No kidding." Marshall rubs his eyes quickly, breathing in the fresh air of the forest. He smiles as he takes an arrow and notches it to the string of his bow, then sits down onto the ground sheepishly. "Sorry, but I've gone blind."

"Are you sure?" Ryker asks, peering at Marshall on the ground before sitting next to the boy from Ten. "It's pretty dark in here."

"I'm _certain_ ," is the exasperated reply from Marshall, who obviously is annoyed with this turn of events. "I wish the game makers just stopped doing this altogether. If they ever see us in a fight, watch them turn one of us blind just for laughs."

Ryker shudders and stands back up, looking around him at the forest as Marshall waits impatiently for the blindness to wear off. It's a rather thick pine forest, with plenty of orange needles adorning the ground and providing bits of colour for him to see. "Are you ready to go yet?"

The reply comes seconds later, Marshall rising back to his feet and grabbing the fallen bow and arrow. "Now I am."

Ryker nods and continues to walk with his ally, looking about him as they search for the girl from Five. He can't let his guard down, not even in the daytime. He's got to be ready before the girl finds them.

And if she does, he'll be the first to die.

 **Moon Kraków, 17, District Twelve Female**

She's checking her traps again.

No cannons have echoed throughout the arena since the second day, but she still wants to make sure that she hasn't caught anyone yet. It would be a wonderful surprise to find a tribute with their leg pierced in the trap, or vainly trying to crawl out while their leg gets more and more infected from all of the loose dirt caking the sides of the holes.

The first one hadn't yielded any results, not even the hint of a creature passing through it as she feels around for the loose wheat that marks her trap. Darn it all. But she still has two more to check, and she'll continue her foray into the arena. It feels nice to be out in the open air once more. It's much freer than the water she had hidden in yesterday. She's not going back to that shack again.

Maybe it would be best to move to the barn in the distance. From what she can tell, no one's hiding there or even going in, and she needs somewhere to shelter when the looming storm finally decides to strike. It's probably coming tomorrow, but she still would rather be able to get there tonight and find a good hiding spot. You never _do_ know if some other tribute would decide to wander into the barn as the storm begins.

But she doesn't have to think about that now. Right now, it's time to see if she can't find any animals or tributes in her traps. It would be nice if she caught one of the rabbits bounding through the fields. She's had rabbit meat before, and it's amazing if she takes off the skin and let it roast above an open fire.

She continues her journey throughout the field, pushing the wheat aside as she walks directly to the next path she had spent all of day one and two to successfully create. Her legs don't ache anymore from all of that running, but they had flared up yesterday in a way that made her have to find a gully in the fields and lie down while she waited for the cramping in her legs to subside.

A bird flies over the sky and caws hoarsely at Moon, heading towards the river. The wind is starting to pick up again after it had subsided last night, warning the arena of a coming storm. Maybe some of the careers didn't realize that the storm was coming any day now, but she was going to heed the wind's warning. After she finished checking her traps, she would walk to where she had hidden her backpack and hike towards the red barn in the distance.

She blinks and opens her eyes to see nothing, the blindness back in full force. Moon takes a quick step back and sits down on the ground, breathing deeply in and out. Four days, and she can't get used to these waves of blindness. She relies on her vision for survival, not hearing or scents or any of the other senses. She hates whatever the game makers put into her with the tracker. It's going to be a good day when she can finally move around without having to worry about going blind. At least it could have been worse. If she had gotten too close to her second trap, she might have managed to fall in and spear her leg.

It's only a minute, but she finally manages to regain her sight and stand back up on her own two feet. At least she's safe for another few hours. After the initial waves, her blindness has settled into a steady pattern of re-occurring around every six hours. That's plenty of time for her to make it to the barn and settle in for the afternoon.

The arena is still quiet as she moves toward the second trap, making a large circle around the trap itself once she reaches the path. She won't let herself get caught. She's not getting caught in her own trap. That's too ironic for her to succumb to.

The wind slows down once more - can't the game makers make up their minds about whether it's a calm or a windy day? - and she keeps moving towards the third trap, idly remembering the second day's death. She hadn't seen the girl from Seven die in the water, but she had seen the girl from Five leap up onto the riverbank from the safety of the fields that she had spent most of the Games in. The boat is likely at the bottom of the river by now, peacefully hidden from view. Maybe the game makers will dry up the river and let the boat be seen again, but Moon suspects that the game makers won't be doing that anytime soon. It's much more beneficial for them to keep the water at its current levels, especially with the last death.

A rustle in the fields causes her to turn, but she passes it off as some random animal. She's almost at her trap, anyway. She'll be leaving for a safe place soon enough.

As she steps onto the path, a sudden cry of recognition causes her to turn around and look up. It's a tribute - no, it's the _careers_ , all hot on the trail that Moon's spent so much time on during the past few days.

Panem, help her keep her composure. Because if she even gives any sign that the path is a trap, she'll lose quite possibly her only chance at harming the strongest alliance in the arena right now.

The careers come closer and Moon starts to turn around, forcing a shrill scream to emit from her lips and resonate in the air around her. That'll at least make them think that she's afraid. Then she starts to run slowly, looking behind her in hidden delight to see them all.

The girl from One is at the front of the group, yelling something incoherently to her pack-mates as they continue on their journey towards Moon. Next comes the boy from Two, then the girl, and the boy from Four finishes the group. They're all here.

Moon trips over her feet and lies on the ground to provide some incentive, causing another yell of delight to come from the careers. But before they reach her, a shrill scream of panic comes from the girl from One as she topples into the hole. The boy and girl from Two, too close to her to stop, topple into the hole as well before the boy from Four falls in on top of them all. Funny, their screams take a few extra seconds to start sounding, and she can't even see them in the hole. Surely they wouldn't have all fallen on one another, would they?

She tiptoes closer to the pit and gasps as she sees that the pit is around twelve feet deep now and the stakes are collapsed onto their sides instead of sticking up lethally, a cannon booming as she looks down at the mass of careers at the bottom of the hole. She flees before they see her, one single thought filling her brain as she makes for the barn.

She's caught the careers. But the hole's bigger. _Much_ bigger. That must mean only one thing -

The game makers are on _her_ side.

 **Taffeta Paisley, 18, District One Female**

She yawns as the careers continue their hunt throughout the fields, keeping pace with Keelan at the back of the pack. Isa's elected to take the spot of watching the supplies today, telling them all that she'd be expecting them back by supper. It's nice for Taffeta to finally get out and hunt once more. She might not like all of the endless walking that goes on in this hunt, but she _lives_ for the moment that they'll spot a tribute and race after them, ready to take out another tribute in this arena.

Zora yawns and looks towards the river, shivering slightly as a breeze hits her. "I hope that it won't get too cold later on in the day. I've enjoyed the warm air in here."

The others nod and keep moving, looking around them to see if they can spot any tributes. Outliers are always sneaky little things; masters of camouflage and deception. She wouldn't be surprised if one was right under her nose.

"Who's still left, Keelan?" she asks in a sultry tone, running her fingers down his arm as they continue to walk. "I've forgotten."

Keelan blushes at the touch and strokes his chin, trying to remember the faces in the sky. "Um, there's us five, plus the boy from Three, Seamus or something? Then the girl from Five and the boy from Seven, and… the girl from… Ten? Or is it Eleven? Anyways, the boy from Twelve, starts with a B but I don't know the name… um, oh, it's the girl from Nine, not Ten! And then there are a few others, the boy from Ten one of them. I can't remember the last one. Do you know it?"

Taffeta shrugs, scratching her shoulder and looking up at the sky. She hadn't paid attention to the deaths on Day One, more focused on Isa and her acceptance into the pack. "I don't know, but it's not like they're a threat. That goes to Ashrifah and Giovanna, and Marshall as well."

She moves towards Zora and smirks, looking towards the fields. "See anything yet, fearless leader?"

"We think that there's a path in the distance. You see the trampled down wheat? Sure sign of a tribute who had ran through here and tried to escape. And from the looks of it, they might have used the path a few more times than they should have. We're heading towards there."

Taffeta peers towards the spot, seeing the broken stalks of wheat and the flattened trail. "I see it. I could lead us there, you know. I'd love to get a kill."

Zora nods curtly and allows Taffeta to take the lead, all walking on the path. It's time to hunt.

As she walks at the front of the pack, going down this strange path that obviously means that a tribute's been walking down here many times, she spots a glimmer of clothing in the distance. "Guys, I see a tribute over there. A tribute!"

Zora is the first to react, pushing Taffeta towards the girl and yelling at Ajax and Keelan to start running. "We're not losing this one! Don't stop, even if you're going to go blind! We're going to get a kill today!"

The others cheer and sprint after Taffeta, all eager for a kill. She breathes in deeply and prepares to stab the girl with her knives, keeping her eyes on the girl. It's one of the outliers, possibly the girl from Twelve. It looks like her anyway, all skin and bone and olive tones that conflict with the bright colour of her clothing. She'll be an easy kill. She didn't score too high in training, anyway. Or was that the girl from Eleven? She hadn't been paying much attention to the training scores after District Seven; content with the information she had gathered. She had turned her focuses on blocking out Luxx instead, snidely making comments about him as that endless broadcast of score reveals continued and whispering to Ben about how he couldn't be trusted in the pack. She feels no remorse for what she did to her district partner. The boy had deserved it, especially how he had ripped the opportunity for glory away from his twin. She had only been dealing justice in the bloodbath, after all.

She sprints faster when the girl trips, desperately trying to keep ahead of her allies. She doesn't know who's going to get this kill, but she'll be damned if she loses the chance to get it just because she slows down in this sprint towards the fallen tribute. She's going to get the sponsors that she deserves, not things like the snake in Day Two's package. She's going to grab the respect she deserves with this kill.

The wheat seems slightly weaker up ahead, but Taffeta pays no attention to it as she hurries towards the girl from Twelve. Oh, she's so close - so close - so close that she can almost taste the blood of the girl -

And then she's falling through the air, the bottom of a - a _hole_ in the middle of the path looming ever closer as she tries to claw her way back up. Time slows down as she falls to the bottom, but it doesn't change her fate. She's falling down, right onto _sharpened stakes_ sticking out of the ground.

Her body knocks over most of the stakes as she lands so that the other careers aren't pierced by the lethal pieces of wood, but it doesn't matter anyway to Taffeta. She's already gone.

 **Isa James, 15, District Six Female**

It's starting to get colder in the cornucopia.

It's probably just the wind, but that thought doesn't stop Isa from peering outside and looking for any clouds in the sky, blocking out the sun. And there are, a gargantuan wall of grey waiting at the edge of the arena. Sooner or later, there'll be a storm ripping through the arena.

Hopefully, her allies get back here before the storm starts.

She draws the blankets she had taken from the cornucopia tighter around her body, shivering in the breeze. Hopefully, the game makers decide to make the arena warmer later on in the Games. She doesn't like to be in the cold, never has, and she doesn't know if there are any warm jackets in the cornucopia. She'll have to go look for some tonight.

The cannon that had boomed earlier in the day is still unnerving her, the thought that it might be one of the careers making her whimper nervously inside of her blankets. She doesn't want the pack to go down to four members, not after she worked so hard to get into it. Maybe it was a kill of theirs. That would cheer Zora up a bit, at least.

A snarl comes from outside of the thorn bushes and she jolts back to reality, looking for the cause of the noise. It sounds like a dog or something like it, what with the fierce snarl and what almost sounded like a bark. Isa grabs her weapon and grabs her thin, bright-green jacket, shrugging it over her shoulders before heading out to investigate the noise. But before she leaves the cornucopia, she pauses and grabs a sword instead. She'd rather have a weapon with more reach than her small knives in this situation.

She walks down the meadow and through the tunnel, fingering her sword as she walks towards the noise. It's probably some mutt that the game makers made, something to scare her back into the cornucopia until the careers come back. But she's not going to let herself get intimidated by some silly mutt. She'll slaughter the beast and prove that she belongs in the careers as much as any of the others. She might not _have_ to prove that, but the fact that she killed a mutt will give her a confidence boost. She can play the role of the killer much better once she actually kills a tribute.

She hears the howl once more and holds the sword in front of her, narrowing her eyes and baring her teeth. If it comes any closer, she can intimidate the dog before she slices it to bits. Dogs always cowered whenever she yelled at them back in her neighbourhood. This shouldn't be any different. It shouldn't.

She hopes.

The sun is starting to set, leaving a gloomy light to illuminate the arena. It makes her shiver slightly as she continues to search for the mutt, trying to focus on her mission. Everything seems so much gloomier in the dark. She wants to go back to the campfire, back to safety.

But she can't. Not until she kills the beast and proves that she's just as good as the rest of the careers. Only then she'll be able to go back to safety.

Another howl pierces the air and she yells back in rage, slicing her sword through the air. First, she sees nothing around her, then the gleaming eyes of some animal staring back at her in the distance. She yells again and it moves closer, its face distinguishable in the setting light. It's a dog, but then it _isn't,_ with a wild look about its face and a fearless snarl adorning its mouth. It doesn't look scared. It looks _hungry_.

She thinks back quickly to school and remembers that it must be some type of wolf, silently thanking her teachers for drilling that into her head. At least she'll be able to yell its name to the viewers and impress them with her knowledge of the mutt. It feels less scary now that it has a name.

The wolf howls and steps towards Isa, sniffing the air rapidly and padding silently on the ground. She can see its claws now, long, sharp things that scratch the dirt and leave deep marks. She can't let it scratch her with those things. They're _lethal_ , that's what they are. She's got to be careful now.

The wolf snarls once more before looking to the side, causing Isa to look to where it's gazing. But then she realizes the trick and jumps out of the way as the wolf leaps towards her, yelping as it misses her by inches. It falls onto the ground and leaps back up, baring its teeth and snarling once more. She almost screams but holds back the sound, holding the sword in front of her. She can kill it. She can. She can. And as the wolf leaps towards her once more with it's huge teeth, she closes her eyes and swings her sword.

It's funny, she almost expected a cannon when it leaped toward her. But as she opens her eyes and looks down at the ground, the wolf's head is sliced off of its body. The huge paws are still twitching and the body is shaking, but she's killed it. She's _killed_ it, thank Panem!

She smiles before remembering that the wolf is a pack animal. The thought that there might be more causes her to run back to the tunnel, quickly making her way through the tunnel of thorns and taking her position by the dying fire once more. She thinks that they're scared of fire, all wild animals are supposed to be. It's settled, then. She's going to keep the fire going, bright enough to keep away any wild thing and attract her allies back to the cornucopia.

That is, if they're all still alive.

 **Bernard Hancock, 12, District Twelve Male**

He slides into the river and sighs in relief, trying to wash away all of the tiredness of the last few days. He was up nonstop night two, trying to make that thing that had broken their trackers. Shawn plans to leave with him tomorrow, swimming through the river and seeing if they can't find a weak spot in the force field surrounding this arena. Apparently, his family knows how force fields work - and that there's always a weak spot in it. All they have to do is find it, and they should manage to escape the arena.

And then what?

He shrugs his shoulder and plunges under the water, forgetting the upcoming escape. It doesn't matter right now, just as long as he can survive long enough to make it to the escape. He doesn't like the look of those clouds in the distance, blocking out the setting sun. That can only mean that a storm is coming - coming fast.

Shawn walks over to him and scratches his chin in nervousness, waiting for Bernard to wade out of the water. "I don't think that it's a good idea to leave the house. If we're not careful, we might, you know, _get found_." He drops his voice to a whisper and Bernard nods, pushing his hair back as he clambers back onto the island. "Through the window again?"

"Always." Shawn goes through the window first, wiggling into the room and walking into the hallway lying beyond it. Bernard is next, clambering through the window and leaving a wet spot on the carpet as he walks towards Shawn.

"Do you think that we should worry about the storm? I think that it's going to hit tomorrow if we're lucky. I think it's best to stay in the house, Shawn. We can't afford to die in the storm, especially if we're supposed to escape."

"Shh!" Shawn hisses, glaring at Bernard. "Pipe down about that! We're leaving tomorrow, no matter what. We have to go before the game makers find out and do something about it. There's no other choice for the two of us. Either liberty or death."

Bernard sucks in a breath harshly, turning away from Shawn. The more and more he's hearing about this escape plan that Shawn has, the less he wants to participate in it. Even if it's their only chance at survival, he doesn't want to spend the rest of his life with a small rebel group, waiting to get killed by the Capitol.

Is it better to die a quick death, or live forever in fear of death?

He looks in the cupboards in the hope that food has materialized, but none shows itself in the barren shelves. At least it helps him cope with being hungry. The fish that they had caught had been too boney to be much sustenance, and Shawn hasn't managed to catch a fish since. That might be their last meal in the arena unless some sponsor takes pity on them.

But what sponsor would help out a pair of rebellious tributes? They're on their own, that's what it is.

Maybe it's almost better to leave Shawn.

But no, he'll stay. There's not much else he can do for the time being, and Shawn won't kill him, that's for sure. He'll be safe here for now. Maybe not tomorrow, but he can probably survive the day.

Shawn sits down at the counter and drums his fingers on the countertop absentmindedly, causing Bernard to frown. "Could you stop that, please? It's getting really annoying."

Shawn shrugs and stops drumming the countertop, fidgeting with his fingers instead. Bernard sighs and walks away, taking a seat next to the Tesla coil that had been the cause of all of their troubles. The machine is still for now, a few pieces fallen onto the carpet of the room. He rubs his white burn where the broken tracker should be and sighs, feeling the hot pain that touching the burn causes. How hasn't the Capitol realized that the trackers are broken? Maybe it's because they managed to break the cameras in here as well. But if that was true, wouldn't they try to do something about it? Or would they just accept it as part of the Games?

He's going to worry himself to death about this tracker business. For now, all he should try to do is get some sleep. There isn't anything else that will help him.

He grabs a blanket from the pile that they had scavenged from the bedrooms and closets and jumps onto the bed, covering himself with the warm material. Some sleep will do him some good. At least he'll stop worrying. But as he closes his eyes and counts mockingjays in the trees of Twelve, his mind refuses to turn off and let him drift off to sleep. He eventually opens his eyes once more and starts staring at the ceiling, watching a tiny spider crawl across the ceiling and towards the wall. The arena is so _boring_ at times! Why can't there be some action right now, something to occupy him so he doesn't have to resort to pretending to go to sleep?

Shawn gasps at something and Bernard bolts out of bed, grabbing a piece of wood that they had torn off from another bed and hurrying to his ally. Maybe he needs protection! Maybe there's a mutt!

But when Bernard arrives, Shawn is watching the grey clouds cover the sky. "I think it's going to rain tonight. I _hope_ it's only tonight. We don't need to deal with this."

But the clouds refuse to vanish, growing darker and darker before their eyes. Tributes without any shelter must be panicking right now. Bernard would be if he wasn't under this roof. They're all going to catch their death of cold, as his mother always liked to exclaim when Bernard came scurrying into the house after celebrating a rainfall. Maybe it'll get rid of a few more.

Shawn looks uneasily into the distance, watching the river start to pick up as a heavy wind starts to run through the arena. "I wonder if we'll get flooded. We aren't that high above the water level."

And as the rain begins to fall against the roof of the house, all Bernard can do is shrug. Shrug, and hope to Panem that they don't drown in the safest spot in the arena.

 **Day four! A death! Everyone is happy! Well, except for Taffy's submitter lol**

 **Anyways, enjoy the day? We've made it to the top 11 now, and we've still got a lot to go! By my plans, we've got more than a week to be written for this arena, and possibly up to 18 days (nah I'm too lazy to go that far lol) Anyways, I've got a lot planned, and this hole that the careers find themselves in is one of them :DD And a storm's a brewing...**

 **12th: Taffeta Paisley, District One Female; killed by Moon Kraków. Created by HoshiNyanGirl**

Taffy was a brat. She was one of the antagonists of this story, though she looked a bit better when she clashed with Luxx. A lot of her time in the Games detailed her fighting with Luxx and plotting to kill him, and her shallow personality, fixated on looks and styles, didn't leave much room for her to go far in these Games. But I did like writing her, and she spurred on what could be called the most dramatic bloodbath death - Luxx's untimely death. She hadn't even been caught by her allies! HoshiNyanGirl, I hope you like the path that Taffeta got to spiral down. Thanks for a great character who was rather a fun antagonist, and if you're still reading, enjoy the rest of the story!

 **KILL COUNT**

(Italicized are deceased tributes)

Taffeta Paisley, District One Female - 1 Kill  
Zora Stikander, District Two Female - 1 Kill  
Ajax Hollis, District Two Male - 1 Kill  
Keelan Spinnaker, District Four Male - 1 Kill  
Ashrifah Keyaut, District Five Female - 2 Kills  
Ryker Underwood, District Seven Male - 1 Kill  
 _Paxton Webb, District Nine Male - 1 Kill  
_ Giovanna Fillinfini, District Nine Female - 1 Kill  
Marshall Furr, District Ten Male - 1 Kill  
Moon Kraków, District Twelve Female - 1 Kill  
Arena - 2 Kills

 **DISTRICT PLACEMENTS**

District Two  
District Three  
District Four  
District Five  
District Six  
District Seven  
District Nine  
District Ten  
District Twelve  
10th: District One  
11th: District Eleven  
12th: District Eight

 **Here are the alliances, so that we're all on the same page ;)**

Careers: Zora, Ajax, Keelan, Isa

Anti-Ashrifah™: Marshall, Ryker

Are we supposed to be afraid of water now?: Shawn, Bernard

Loners: Ashrifah, Giovanna, Moon

The Dead: Lincoln, Tony, Hollister, Nehemiah, Wyatt, Cornelia, Carol, Paxton, Pepper, Mira, Luxx, Monique, Aris, Taffeta

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 **btw, I don't want any negative reviews about members of the community. You know who you are, and you are blocked. (Don't worry submitters and main readers it's not you guys) Anyway, enjoy this chapter, and get ready for the storm to unleash its might tomorrow...**

 **Keep subbing to Hiraeth! It's gotten thirteen submissions so far :O and I'm loving all of them! Keep those coming, and sponsor Distorted with your points! The tributes want things :3 Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	36. Day V: Death on the Nile

**For clarification: It's actually night four and day five, technically, but that's ok lol I like the way the chapter titles are and won't change it hehe**

 **Shawn Andersen, 14, District Three Male**

The rain is starting to flood the little house that he's crouched in.

It comes in waves. The water rushes in through the door and some of the windows as the storm rages on outside, soaking the carpet and reaching his wet shoes if he isn't careful, before washing back out through the cracks that it managed to get through. But most of the water remains on the floor, slowly making its way up the side of the walls as the house continues to fill with the dirty, raging river water.

Bernard slips in the water as he exits the bedroom and chokes on a mouthful of water, spitting it out onto the floor and wiping his mouth. "There better not be any nasty bugs or viruses in that water. I'm not dying from that."

Shawn shivers, his ankles fully submerged in the water. "We got to get to the top of the roof if we'll have a chance at not getting totally flooded. Did you break the Tesla coil?"

Bernard nods, tapping the wrench he has in his hand against his thigh. "Destroyed so that it won't electrocute us."

Shawn smiles, grabbing one of the chairs and propping it up against the ceiling. "I think that the roof is pretty weak, especially since it's leaking." He holds his hand up for reference, feeling the icy water dripping against his palm.

"So we have to… _break it_?" asks Bernard incredulously, almost dropping the wrench as he looks up at the low ceiling. "But what about the wires in there? Won't those be bad?"

"There might not be any wires in the ceiling," points out Shawn, climbing onto the chair. "Hand me the wrench, will you?"

Bernard passes him the wrench and Shawn grimly starts to batter the roof with the wrench, punching with it as hard as he can. The plaster slowly cracks before falling into the water, Bernard crying out in disgust when some gets in his hair. "This smells horrible!"

Shawn shrugs and continues to hit the roof, trying to make a hole in it so that the two tributes can widen their chance at escape and climb through. "It's our only way to get out. We aren't escaping through the door, especially if it's flooding water. The current will sweep us away for good."

"Couldn't we wait a bit longer?" Bernard questions, the water now knee-deep. "We don't need to spend like, hours out there. I say we widen it and then wait in here until the water gets too much for us."

"And if the house collapses? What then?"

"Oh. I didn't think of that." Bernard grabs another chair and places it next to Shawn, wading through the kitchen to grab a knife from the counter before standing the now-fallen chair back up. "I can help you!"

He stands on the chair and takes a spot at the newly-made hole, chipping away bits of the roof with the sharp knife as Shawn keeps slamming the wrench into the ceiling. The two grimly hit away, the hole continuing to widen and widen. Soon, rain is hitting their faces and causing the tools to get slippery. Bernard almost drops his knife into the water, desperately grabbing it with his other hand. "Ow! I cut myself!"

"Just keep working!" Shawn hisses through clenched lips, his fingers aching from how hard he's hitting the roof. "We can't give up now."

"We could…"

"No, we couldn't." Shawn stops the conversation as a piece of plywood cracks and scrapes his arm on its way into the water, his arm starting to ooze crimson red blood. "We're almost there!"

Bernard smiles and carves away at the hole, chips falling into the water as he widens the hole and tries to cut away the rough edges. The chairs are getting close to being underwater by now, the water splashing against Shawn's shoes and soaking his legs even more. But they're so close to finishing, the hole just wide enough for them to squeeze through. Shawn whoops as he punches the wrench through the side of the hole, sliding the tool onto the roof for future use. "I think we can get through! You wanna go first?"

Bernard shrugs and jumps as high as he can, his fingers grabbing the side of the hole and holding. He yelps in pain but continues to hold, his legs flailing in the air as he tries to push himself up. Shawn grabs his feet and pushes them up, letting Bernard get his arms through the hole and hoist himself up. The boy disappears through the hole and then pokes his face back through, his eyes beaming in delight. "I'm through! The storm looks pretty bad. You better hurry up and get up here, I'll pull you up."

Shawn takes a hold of the younger boy's arms and tries to climb up, his legs pushing against the wall as he struggles through the hole. Bernard's fingers are wet with blood but hold firm, allowing Shawn to make his way onto the top of the roof. The wind is much stronger than he thought it would be, almost blowing him into the choppy water that surrounds the house. He can't even see the lawn, and the window of the kitchen seems to be almost submerged in the water. "Loud up here!"

"What - say?" yells back Bernard, cupping his hand to his ear. Shawn groans in frustration, looking around for his wrench. The wind is too loud for him to communicate with his ally.

Bernard yells what might be a warning to Shawn, but the boy from Three ignores it. He wants to have his wrench for when the storm dies down, something that he can use as protection in case they run into someone after the storm. Maybe they'll be able to escape then, able to make their way to whatever base that the rebels have set up. They have to have made one, there would be no point of escape otherwise. And he's going to lead the mission and save Bernard and help lead the revolution -

He slips on the side of the roof and falls into the water, struggling to keep up above the raging water as it tries to drag him down below the surface. First, he stays above water, and then something hits his chest and he can't feel anything anymore.

His only regret is that he couldn't have saved them all.

 **Ajax Spinnaker, 17, District Two Male**

Their hole is starting to fill up.

Zora tumbles back onto the ground, groaning from the force of the fall. "Why is this hole so damn deep?"

Keelan shrugs, coughing violently and shivering as he tries to lift his feet out of the water that's seeping in steadily from the raging storm in the arena. If they aren't careful, they're all going to drown in this hole.

Ajax shivers as water pours onto his head, his very bones seeming to chill from the cold of the water below. It's… so cold… so cold…

It's been hours since they've fallen in this hell of a hole. Hours of being trapped in soggy mud and crumbling walls of dirt, coating him with a slick layer of mud that tries to get into his mouth whenever he isn't paying attention. Sleep had been out of the question tonight - if you weren't careful, the rain that was pouring into the hole would easily drown you. After all, there was no point in drowning like that when there was no room at all to sleep in here. He just hopes that they can get out soon. He doesn't want to drown like this. He just wants to go back home, climb into bed, and drift off to sleep…

He jerks up, having sunk to his knees as he had drifted off to sleep. It's another wave of water that had woken him up this time, washing away some of the mud and making him sputter from the shock. But he's thankful. At least he hadn't stayed asleep.

Zora is the only one with energy left to try to get out of the hole. Again and again, she forces her way up a few feet before the soggy mud painting the sides of the hole collapses and sends her spiralling back into the hole; often on Ajax or Keelan. There's barely enough room for all of them to stand in the hole, let alone move out of the way when someone falls from their ascent to the top.

Zora seems to be trying to stab one of their swords and a few of the spikes that were at the bottom of the hole into the ground, trying to ignore the corpse of Taffeta below her feet. It's only been around a day since she had died - or maybe less, he hasn't been able to keep track of time in here when he's had trouble seeing the sun - but her eyes are blank and her body is swelling into grotesque, twisted shapes that make him want to look away. So he looks up instead, moving to help Zora hammer a spike into the side of the hole. "Is that good so far?"

Zora steps onto the wooden stake and experimentally bounces on it, nodding firmly. "Seems good. Another, and I might get high enough to make a leap for it."

Ajax nods, helping her get up onto the first stake and smash another into the side of the hole. Zora tries to push herself up to the second before taking a leap into the air. She almost reaches the top, she almost does, but like her previous attempts, her fingers miss the side of the hole and she tumbles back onto the ground.

"Ow!" Keelan's face is starting to swell from where Zora's foot had hit him as the girl gets back onto her feet, glaring up at the top of the hole and rubbing her sore head. "I can't seem to get high enough to do this. How on Panem did that bitch get the hole so deep? She'd have to get into here at some time to dig, you know. How would she get back up? Ropes? And where did all the dirt go?"

"There's no time to think about that," Ajax points out, looking down to the ground where the waterline has managed to reach his ankles. "We're starting to get filled up with water. We've gotta get out of here. _Now_. Now, stop thinking about the girl from Twelve and work on surviving. It's the only chance we have."

Zora nods grimly and tries to claw her way up the hole, giving up halfway her foray up the sides of the hole and jumps back down, her nails dirty with the mud sticking to her hands. "I think it's best if we work together. If we get up to the top together, whoever's up first can help haul the others into the fields. And then we can go back to the cornucopia."

Ajax agrees and moves to the side as Keelan grabs his spear, climbing atop of the first stake that they had stuck into the side of the hole. "If I get high enough, I might be able to use this as a bar of sorts to haul ourselves onto the surface. I think it'll work."

Zora helps him position himself on the stake, moving out of the way as Keelan prepares to leap. "It _will_ work. It has to. It has to."

"I sure hope so..." Keelan mumbles as he prepares to leap, his muscles clenched and his mouth shut. Then he leaps into the air, a cry of anger emitting from his lips as he gets to the top. But then the stream of water falling into the hole hits him square in the face, sending him back with surprise. He turns around in the air as he falls, pointing the spear away from him as he goes crashing down. He's going to hit someone with that thing, Ajax thinks wryly as he watches the spear come down towards the ground - towards Ajax, ready to nail him in the stomach. And then it hits him - he's going to get stabbed. He's going to die. Oh Panem, he's about to die.

He shuts his eyes, trying to forget the pain. But then the spear smashes into his body and all he can do is scream.

 **Keelan Spinnaker, 17, District Four Male**

He hits the ground face first, his fingers still clenched onto the spear as he swallows a mouthful of water. The stuff tastes horrible, coating his tongue with dirt and mud. It's all he can do to not retch it out along with whatever's left in his stomach, but he manages to keep it in. He doesn't need to puke right now.

He realizes that he's still holding the spear and follows the pole with his eyes, almost watching curiously as he sees that he's stabbed Ajax right in the chest.

Oh Panem, he's stabbed his ally in the chest.

Zora yells in rage and slaps Keelan across the face before crouching down next to her district partner, frantically trying to stem the blood flow with her fingers. "No, Ajax, don't leave me, don't leave us, no, no, no, no..."

Keelan feels his red face with his fingers, watching in horror as Ajax coughs up blood. It splatters on Zora's fingers but she doesn't notice, holding all the tighter to his wound. "You're going to be fine, Ajax. I know you, you can come back from this."

"I'm… dying..." he gasps, holding up his arm before letting it splash back into the water. "Forgive… Keelan… didn't… it."

"No, you're staying alive!" yells Zora, grabbing his arms and positioning him so his face remains above the water. "Please, Ajax, don't leave me..."

Keelan breathes deeply, crouching down to Ajax and feeling a small tear stream down his face. "Sorry, Jax. You know I didn't mean it. We'll win for you."

With that, Ajax smiles weakly before closing his eyes, Zora still trying to keep the blood from flowing out of his wound. Keelan pulls the spear out of Ajax's body, letting it fall into the water. "He deserves to die peacefully, quickly. Would you not deny him that right, Zora?"

Zora nods, her eyes shining with what might be tears as she bends down to Ajax. "I want you to know, Ajax… you were the best of us all."

She kisses him on the cheek and stands up, watching the life ebb out of Ajax until his eyes close and a cannon booms in the air. Her eyes seem peaceful as she looks at the body of her district partner, silently taking one last mental picture to remember him by. Then she turns around to Keelan with a vicious snarl, brandishing her weapon and moving closer to the terrified boy from Four. "You… _killed_ my district partner, Four. "

Keelan backs up to a side of the hole with his hands raised in surrender, shaking his head and hoping that Zora won't be too impulsive. "It was an _accident_! I didn't mean to hit Ajax, trust me! But if you kill me, I don't think we'll be getting out any time soon. We _have_ to work together for this to work."

Zora looks down at the water pooling around her feet and nods, helping Keelan to stand back up. "I guess we'll have to try the spear thing again. But if you miss and hit me, I hope you're stuck here on your own."

Keelan nods and prepares to leap, breathing deeply as his feet struggle to remain on the narrow stake. He looks up, closes his eyes, and jumps towards the top of the hole, holding the spear with both hands. The spear rises over the top of the hole and Keelan lets go of the weapon, watching it wobble before stopping, both sides of the spear touching the ground and creating a firm pole for them to climb up on.

Zora helps Keelan up off of Taffeta's corpse, Keelan grinning as he stands back up on his feet. "I'll go first, and then help you up. Got it?"

Zora stares Keelan down before slowly nodding, allowing him to brush off some of the mud that's clinging to his pants before he prepares to jump for the spear and haul himself up. As he gets up on the stake that they've been using to leap off of, he realizes that the spear might not be strong enough to be able to pull himself up on.

It better be strong enough.

He leaps into the air and grabs the staff of the spear, the weapon bouncing slightly before sinking into both sides of the hole. Keelan lifts one leg up and hooks it over the weapon, shimmying himself to the side of the hole before turning upright and jumping onto the ground. The fields are wet with the storm, rain pouring down onto Keelan and soaking what little dry spots he has left on his uniform. Water seems to be pooling on the ground and flowing into the hole, already up to Zora's knees where she's standing. They've gotten out at the right time. A few more minutes, and the water might have been too high for them to stand on the stake properly.

Zora looks up impatiently from the bottom of the hole, waving to Keelan. "You going to lower the spear down to me and lift me up?"

Keelan nods slowly, then pauses as he looks down at Zora. He _could_ get her out.

Or not.

If he does so, he'll probably be betrayed by the angry career due to the fact that he had managed to kill her district partner. Even if she doesn't do it now, he can't risk having her kill him this close to the final eight.

The careers are dead or dying, all scattered throughout the arena. It's time to cut this alliance loose and strike it out on his own. It's his only chance of surviving. He can't go back to the cornucopia with Zora and try to hunt, the losses this year have been too great for them to continue as they have before. He's going it alone from now on.

"Keelan? What are you doing?" yells Zora, her eyes still visible in the darkness as Keelan reaches for the spear. "Are you getting me out? Hurry up! The water's still rising in here, dolt!"

Keelan grabs the spear and shakes his head as he looks down at Zora, ready to turn away. "The alliance has already had it's best days, Zora. Good luck on your own."

Zora sputters in confusion, trying to claw her way up to the top of the hole. "Keelan? Are you _leaving_? Come back! Back! Keelan!"

He runs as she starts to swear in rage, trying to stumble to a place where he can't hear her screams. He'll be safe wherever he can't hear her, see her, think of her. He'll find a place to sleep.

But he'll still hear her in his dreams.

 **Marshall Furr, 16, District Ten Male**

The forest is starting to flood.

He had noticed that the back half of the arena seemed to be quite lower than the half where the cornucopia was situated in the bloodbath, but the information had managed to escape his mind as the alliance had met up with Aris and fled to the large barn in the distance. Now he's regretting the fact that he had originally tossed it away, knowing that if he had remembered, they could have hiked to the higher half of the forest and set up camp there instead of having their camp flood with water.

At least Ryker knew which trees they should perch in before venturing back onto the ground.

Ryker is above him in the tree, silently holding onto a firm branch as he looks at the water pooling on the ground of the forest. The rock that they had put supplies on as they tried to sleep on the ground is now covered with water, the supplies that had sat on top of it back into Ryker's collection of backpacks. Marshall is holding the food that they have left in his own, routinely tossing up bits for Ryker to chew on. He does so now, throwing a cracker up to the boy from Seven. Ryker grabs it with one hand and tosses it into his mouth, eagerly devouring the dried and salty cracker as he moves around his tree branch. "D'you think that the water will eventually stop falling?"

"I don't know if the rain will ever stop," sighs Marshall, looking down at the ground and watching the water continue to rise slowly. "But we need to keep moving soon. We should get to dry ground, just in case the game makers get any ideas and send some monstrous animal after us."

"Sure thing." Ryker slides down the trunk of the tree and sits next to Marshall, swinging his legs in the air. "I'm glad that there are some trees in this arena. I wouldn't want to be in an arena like, say, the Fifth Games."

"Yeah," replies Marshall, trying to remember watching that games. If he thinks hard, he can remember watching a faded image of a beautiful savanna. And there were… lights flashing on a large building, with tributes dancing their way through the floors and spilling blood in the stairwells. "There were only those huge trees that the giraffes ate from."

"Those don't look like trees," replies Ryker. "Well, not like the ones back home. Those things in the Fifth seemed like homes for some odd folk in another district, not a proper tree to cut down and send back to the Capitol."

"Fair enough." Marshall shifts on his branch and moves closer to the trunk of the tree, looking at a few birds fluttering through the branches of the trees. "We have trees in Ten, you know. I liked to read in them while watching the cattle."

"Oh. We got to play in the forest a lot, but we couldn't go into any parts that were taken by lumberjacks. Your parents would get fined, maybe even whipped for negligence. But I loved the forest when I was a kid. Still do," Ryker laughs, climbing up onto another branch and bouncing slightly on the sturdy branch. "If I wasn't so tall now, I'd be going to the very top of this tree. But the branches would be too thin this time around. If they weren't, I'd see if I couldn't get you to climb from tree to tree and make our way to dry ground."

"Are they close enough to do so?" asks Marshall, looking up at Ryker with a curious look on his face. "Because if we can stay out of the water, we can stay dry. And we want to stay dry for now. I don't feel like walking through waist-deep water for half an hour."

"Half an hour? It's not too far to get to dry ground, you can almost see it if you climb high enough."

Marshall shakes his head, pointing down to the water. "Much slower sloshing through there, especially if it's waist deep. You can't run in waist deep water."

"Well, I could see," says Ryker slowly, moving across the branch and looking at a nearby tree. The trees are close together, the branches touching and intertwining in certain areas to almost block out the sun above with the leaves and pine needles decorating the trees. "They do seem close. Perhaps..."

"Let's try it!" exclaims Marshall, standing up on his branch and moving to the side. "Show me how to do it?"

Ryker nods and walks on his branch, his feet easily standing on the firm branch. "You reach for a thicker branch, then you jump, grab, and then haul yourself up."

He looks at a branch above his and leaps for it, his hands easily wrapping around the branch and holding firm. Ryker moves closer to the trunk of the other tree and hauls himself up, leaning against the trunk. "Think you can do it?"

Marshall gulps and shimmies towards another branch, slowly standing up and grabbing a branch above him for support. He tries to reach the branch that Ryker had grabbed, bending over before stopping and grabbing the branch once more. "I can't do it. It's too far."

Ryker nods slowly and looks at the branch, an idea forming in his mind. "How about… you still have the rope, right? And you can lasso things?"

Marshall pats his backpack, taking out the long piece of rope that they had found in one of the backpacks Aris had grabbed from the cornucopia. "Of course. I'm not from Ten for nothing."

Ryker smiles, pointing to the branch. "If you can lasso it or whatever you do, you can swing to this branch! Just make sure to brace for impact, hitting the trunk can always hurt."

Marshall prepares to throw the lasso, quickly forming it into a loop and twirling it slightly in the air. "Here goes..."

The lasso flies through the air and grabs the branch, allowing Marshall to take a deep breath and swing to the next tree. He slams into the trunk and gasps in surprise, his fingers deftly holding onto the rope as he grabs the trunk and climbs onto the branch. He's done it. The impact may have surprised him, but it's not enough to wipe the grin off of his face.

He's ready to move.

 **Zora Stikander, 16, District Two Female**

She's shivering in the waist deep water, her soaked clothes clinging to her skin and chilling her bones. She can't hear the thunder that's been raging all this morning, but she can still feel the rain pour into the hole. It had been going slow last night, dripping into the hole and slowly swallowing the still bodies of her dead allies, but now it's steadily falling into the hole. Now it's up to her waist, rising even more quickly in a race against to see who will get to the top. And if she loses...

She's going to drown.

She slips under the water and yanks one of the stakes out of the side of the hole, gasping for air as she gets above the chilly water. Then she sloshes towards one of the sides, stabbing the sharp stake that the game makers had placed at the bottom of this hole to wound them all into the muddy wall and pushing it deeper in. She stops when she can't push it any further, pushing back her hair and trying to move the stake in case it's not strong enough to hold her weight.

It doesn't move.

She grabs the stake and pulls her body above the water, reaching her legs onto the stake and slowly standing on it. Her body is cold, shivering as she stands on the stake. The cold feels like it burns, eating away at her skin until she doesn't have a warm spot left in her body.

She'd scream in pain, but she'd lost her voice last night yelling for Keelan to come back.

She bends down and grabs a floating stake from the water, slowly standing back up so she doesn't fall back into the water. It's already happened twice, both times because she had put the first stake up too high and had over-rotated as she had tried to jump up to the top of the hole and pull herself out. She's going to be careful this time around.

She's going to be safe.

Zora curses as water drips onto her hair, soaking her face with what feels like ice water. But she manages to remain on the stake, using her anger to stab the next one into the wall firmly enough for her hands to hold onto.

All she has to do is haul herself onto the second one, and she can climb out of this hell-hole.

She yells and punches her foot into the mud, trying to create a foothold to climb up on. Her hands remain on the top stake and she continues to batter away at the mud, slowly and surely making a strong foothold. When she does, she sticks her right foot into the hold and moves upwards, doing the same with her left foot to the side of the wall. She's getting closer to the top. She's going to make it.

A rock tumbles out as she gives a particularly vicious kick to the side of the hole, splashing into the water and hitting Ajax's head. Zora looks down and gags at the sight of the dead bodies, the eyes of her former allies staring up with a dead gaze. They're watching her. They're ready for her to die.

No, it's the cold kicking in. If she isn't careful, she may very well get a case of hypothermia. And that means hallucinations, tiredness, numbness, clumsiness, and unconsciousness.

She pinches herself and breathes in relief when she feels the sharp pain, continuing to kick upwards and make another foothold. She starts a third with her right foot, quickly making it before lifting her left leg onto the stake.

She's almost there.

Slowly, carefully, she reaches up to the top of the hole before giving up and clinging onto the stake. She needs her other leg on it first, something to hold onto the stake for her as she reaches for the top. She lifts up her right leg and then looks up at the top of the whole, muttering something under her breath about falling back into the hole before leaping up towards the whole.

One hand reaches the top and clenches the side, then another, and Zora is soon left clinging onto the top of the hole. She kicks her foot into the wall of the hole before making a foothold to push up on, using her elbows and arms to pull herself onto the ground.

The sky is still grey with clouds covering the sun, but the rain is finally starting to clear up. It's warmer up here, the air is hot and humid up in the fields.

She's made it.

Zora painfully stands up and stumbles away from the hole, making her way into the fields before she collapses in the middle of the wheat. She needs to sleep, regain all of the energy that she lost in there and prepare for tomorrow.

And when she wakes up, she'll kill that bastard from Four.

 **Selena Arthtome, 27, Assistant Gamemaker**

The boy from Three still hasn't been declared dead.

His ally is still perched on the roof of the house and holding on desperately to the shingles, ignoring the fierce rain that's soaking his clothes and threatening to wash him away into the water. But the boy from Three had been swept into the river hours ago, and no cameras have picked him up.

"Can you get me a position of the boy from Three from his tracker?" she yells out to the room, one of the game makers by Shawn's station trying to get one before standing up and yelling back to her.

"There's no signal. He's got to be too deep under the water for it to pick him up or something," the man yells, shrugging his shoulder. "We're still waiting for you to okay a cannon."

"So is he _dead_? Did he die before the boy from Two? Likely case, but we can never know," she mutters, scratching her chin and looking at the arena. Come to think of it, she hasn't had a vital check of any of the tributes since day two. "Give me vital checks on the remaining tributes!"

A game maker soon climbs up to her with her answer, looking up at the screen. "All trackers indicate that they're doing well - except for the girl from Two, she's struggling from what could be hypothermia from all of that water in the trap. But the boy from Twelve - his vitals are gone. Just… _gone._ "

Selena stares at the woman, pointing to the screen where Bernard is clinging to the roof. "Then how do you explain that?"

"My guess is that his tracker was broken or something. But I don't know how that would happen from a storm… perhaps an electrical malfunction."

"Shit!" Selena exclaims, looking at the screen with horror. It all adds up now, the coil that Shawn and puzzled Bernard had been so adamant on creating, the electrical malfunction, and the breaking of the cameras. And it can only mean one thing -

The boys have _broken their trackers._

 **:o**

 **11th: Shawn Andersen, District Three Male; hit by floating log. Created by yyvonnee**

Shawn was a fun kid. He had driven the majority of the subplot for the pre-games part of Distorted, his rebel ties driving his character through the tumultuous alliance that were the original rebels before Mira and Wyatt both died and Bernard unintentionally joined the rebellion. I think that Shawn could have been better expressed with his personality and his stubbornness. But he was designated as a rebel, and a true rebel he was for the Games. He died somewhat controversially, with the Capitol certain that Ajax died before him. Little do they know… thanks to yyvonnee for this great character! I hope you enjoyed his ride through the Games, and that his subplot will continue to affect this story - oh, and it will. Just wait until you see what'll happen at the end ;)

 **10th: Ajax Hollis, District Two Male; stabbed by Keelan Spinnaker. Created by The Girl With The Knives**

Ajax was one of my favourite tributes. Unfortunately, my headcanon meant that he had to go goodbye sometime in the Games, as my verse had a Male D2 victor two years ago, and I couldn't really repeat that in this SYOT without changing up my head canon's victors. However, I'd say he was one of the most liked tributes, and very definitely the most liked career, and he was a good fit to these ambitious tributes. However, he had to say goodbye when I came up with this wonderful hole subplot XD It made sense for him to die, Keelan abandon Zora, and leave her alone in the hole until she could escape. Anyways, he was a pretty great character with his fun personality and his strength, and I hope that The Girl With The Knives enjoyed his ride! Knifey, I hope you're happy with a top ten finish for Ajax, and hopefully, you continue to read this SYOT!

 **Anyways, two deaths today! Hooray! (or oh no if you're surprised and saddened by the deaths lol) We're also in the final nine, so one more death equals the top eight, and with that, the interviews! Exciting!**

 **Well, I'd say that was quite an eventful chapter. The storm is starting to end, but the arena is starting to flood from all of the melted snow and this new rain… by the way, if you were confused by Marshall's pov, it was because the arena is on a slight slant, with the cornucopia at the top and the barn at the bottom. That's why it's flooded where Marshall and Ryker are, but it's not much in the fields around the hole.**

 **Anyways, keep sponsoring! If you've sent in things but your characters haven't gotten it yet, rest assured, they will get it ;) (don't worry Silver!) With the final nine and the careers broken up, it's anyone's game…**

 **KILL COUNT**

(Italicized are deceased tributes)

 _Taffeta Paisley, District One Female - 1 Kill_  
Zora Stikander, District Two Female - 1 Kill  
 _Ajax Hollis, District Two Male - 1 Kill_  
Keelan Spinnaker, District Four Male - 2 Kills  
Ashrifah Keyaut, District Five Female - 2 Kills  
Ryker Underwood, District Seven Male - 1 Kill  
 _Paxton Webb, District Nine Male - 1 Kill  
_ Giovanna Fillinfini, District Nine Female - 1 Kill  
Marshall Furr, District Ten Male - 1 Kill  
Moon Kraków, District Twelve Female - 1 Kill  
Arena - 3 Kills

 **DISTRICT PLACEMENTS**

District Two  
District Four  
District Five  
District Six  
District Seven  
District Nine  
District Ten  
District Twelve  
9th: District Three  
10th: District One  
11th: District Eleven  
12th: District Eight

 **Alliances**

Anti-Ashrifah™: Marshall, Ryker

Wait there's lots of us now yet we're still alone: Ashrifah, Giovanna, Moon, Bernard, Keelan, Zora, Isa

The Dead: Lincoln, Tony, Hollister, Nehemiah, Wyatt, Cornelia, Carol, Paxton, Pepper, Mira, Luxx, Monique, Aris, Taffeta, Shawn, Ajax

 **The Sponsor points haven't changed, so I'll only post your points here :D**

 **Sponsor Points**

SilverflowerXRavenpaw= 10 Points

The Girl With The Knives= 200 Points

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HoshiNyanGirl= 40 Points

Yyvonee= 65 Points

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District 9 Tribute= 80 Points

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 **Have a good day! The games are just beginning, so be prepared for lots of excitement ;) Keep subbing to Hiraeth (I've got 17 subs so far and I'm so happy) and review and do things that make me happy in general! Until Day Six, TheAmazingJAJ**


	37. Day VI: Dead Water

**Isa James, 15, District Six Female**

She's still all alone.

Yesterday had left her walking around the cornucopia nervously, eventually reciting the history of the Dark Days to occupy her mind. Two cannons have boomed as of yesterday. And, up in the dark sky last night, she had seen none other than Ajax and Taffeta, along with the boy from Three.

What's happened to her allies?

She sits back down near the ashes of what was her fire, absently poking the blackened chars of what were the logs meant for the fire with a sword. There hasn't been much to do today, and with the fact that nearly half of her alliance were dead, her mind was fixated on the possibility that she had lost them all. She doesn't want to be alone.

She can't be all alone this early in the Games, can she?

She misses home. If she was back at home, she would be watching the Games with her friends and the family. Perhaps Mother and Father would bet quietly on the tributes, but hopefully not this year. She doesn't want to think about the possibility that they might be betting on someone other than her. Even if they were betting on her, would it really be that comforting that they were acting as if she was just someone to make money off of?

Would she feel sympathy for the girl from Six in her place if she was back home?

She wouldn't. And that scares her more than the fact that her allies have vanished.

She stirs around some of the charred wood in the firepit and sighs absentmindedly, looking up towards the sky. Dark clouds cover the arena for as far as she can see, with only a small line of blue at the edge of the horizon.

More rain will be coming.

And she'll be ready.  
She moves towards the edge of her seat and watches the wind blow through the bushes surrounding the cornucopia, the thorns trembling slightly in the strong breeze. A branch breaks off of one of the bushes and tumbles towards the tunnel to the rest of the arena, disappearing into the dark space. She sighs and gathers more food to put into her backpack, packing it tightly so that she can fit as much as possible in there. She'll leave soon to search for the remaining careers, but she'll gather her thoughts first and choose a few weapons to take along. She doesn't want to be caught off guard.

A sudden noise at the bottom of the hill startles her and she whips around, grabbing a knife and standing up to see what caused it. A large figure walks through the tunnel, carrying a spear and boasting a mane of black hair.

Isa gasps in relief and drops the knife, waving to Keelan as he stumbles towards the cornucopia. "Keelan! Are you okay - what happened? Where are the others? Did something happen - was it Ashrifah? Did she attack you? What happened?"

Keelan waves his hand in the air and brushes away Isa's questions, his eyes darting greedily to her sack of food. "The others - dead. At least most of them. I don't know where Zora is."

Isa looks behind him as if Zora will enter behind Keelan before looking back to the tall teen from Four, slowly slipping a knife once more into her hand. "How did you lose her? And how did Ajax and Taffeta die? You do realize the pack is cut in half now, right? That isn't something you can just brush off, Keelan. You can at least tell me how you lost them." Her voice takes on a wheedling tone and she brushes her hair back, gazing intently at Keelan.

"We - we got caught in the storm and… Ajax got swept away in the river. Taffeta tried to kill us off… but Zora fought with her and they both tumbled into the river as well. I managed to stay at the shack that we had tried to shelter in until the storm died down and then came here as soon as I could." Keelan struggles to tell his story as fast as he can, a look of gratefulness coming over him as he finishes. It's almost as if… as if…

As if he's lying.

Isa takes a step back, grabbing her backpack and staring Keelan dead in the eyes. "I don't believe you. We haven't seen any shacks in the arena, especially by the river, have we now?"

Keelan flinches, struggling to keep a calm demeanour. "Maybe I'm exaggerating a bit, but that's what happened. Don't you trust me?"

"No."

Keelan's eye twitches. He turns around and stares into space, his voice deepening and his spear dipping slightly towards the ground. "Well then, we'll have to do something about that, _outlier_."

Isa takes the moment to sprint towards the tunnel, dodging past Keelan and ducking under the spear that inevitably is thrown at her. She shrieks as she sees the weapon smash into the ground and darts into the tunnel, her lungs gasping for breath as she emerges into the fields. She looks towards the soaked fields and launches herself in, trying to make a small of a trail as possible as she looks for a place to hide. Faster and faster, Isa dodges through the wet stalks of wheat before collapsing onto the ground. She listens for any sign of Keelan as she tries to catch her breath, but no sound of the career comes from her surroundings.

She slowly pushes herself up, feeling the clunky pieces of food and supplies press against her back-bones. Isa shrugs off the backpack and looks up at the sky in nervousness, watching the clouds swirl around and seem to turn darker. It seems to whisper insults to her, taunting her with the fact that she's just lost the most secure place in the entire arena because a crazed career scared her away from her safe haven.

She has to find shelter, and soon.

If not, she'll suffer the same fate as the rest of her allies.

 **Giovanna Fillinfini, 18, District Nine Female**

The forest seems tense in the morning light, almost as if it anticipates another storm to come. Rightfully so - Giovanna can see several fallen trees around her fort from her vantage point through the little window that she's made to properly view the damage. She's lucky. A few dozen more feet to the right, and she could have been under the gigantic fallen tree to her left. She's lucky. Very lucky. The storm could have easily killed her off just like the three deaths over the past few days, signified by the cannons that had rang through the arena, but she's still alive. Fate has smiled on her today.

Or maybe the game makers want her to make it to the final eight. But either way, she'll go as far as she can.

She couldn't do anything less.

She pushes past the fronds that she had woven together out of pine and maple branches in the forest to make a door for her fort and steps outside of her wooden sanctuary, looking around for any sign of tributes. Like always, the forest is still. She's all alone once more.

And she likes it that way.

Giovanna hums a little tune to herself as she walks towards some of the trees, looking to see if she can spot where the downpour has drained towards. The arena seems to be on a slant, so if she gets a bit higher, she might be able to see where it's all gone. After all, if it managed to make its way through the feet of branches that make up her fort and drench her in her sleep, it had to be a ton of water that had fallen from the sky.

She's rewarded with the sight of a waterline down the slight incline of the forest, gently washing against a few trees at the edge of her vision. When she leaps down from the trunk of the fallen tree that she had clambered onto, it disappears into the thick forest. If she hadn't climbed onto the tree, she would have never noticed the water below her.  
But if she's close to the top of the arena, does that mean that over half of it is completely flooded?

She turns back to the fort and suddenly hears a large cracking sound coming from the top of the forest. Giovanna tumbles out of the way as a huge branch comes falling from one of the trees, smashing directly into the fort that she had spent almost all of her time in the arena building. The branch crushes most of the fort instantly, leaving only part of the structure upright. Giovanna screams in terror and falls to her knees, ignoring how soaked her pants are getting. It's gone! It's gone!

She tears through the remaining walls of the fort with a scream of frustration, her eyes looking down on the one thing not crushed by the fallen branch - the spyglass. The spyglass. The damned spyglass.

She screams again and throws the spyglass against one of the trees, watching one last cloud of dust come from the object. Before the spyglass rolls down the incline, Giovanna stomps on it with her boots, splintering the spyglass and breaking it into dozens of little pieces. She gives a scornful smile to the broken toy and grinds her heel on the remaining pieces, letting out another scream of anger.

A beeping sound comes from the top of the trees and she looks up in confusion, her angered expression being replaced by a gaze of curiousity. The large sponsor gift drifts down from the tops of the trees and towards Giovanna, the package shaped curiously large. It has quite an odd shape, almost as if it's in the shape of one of those guitars that people play in the bars of Nine that she's seen from a distance while she runs. But it's larger than a guitar, it's almost bigger than her!

The gift hits a branch and gets tangled up with the branches, the clasp holding the parachute to the package giving way to let it fall to the ground. Giovanna approaches it cautiously, sneezing as she touches the dark package. Maybe there are supplies in there that she can use - but no, it had come less than a minute after the branch had fallen. There was no way that Falcon could have reacted to the accident that quickly.

She opens the package and drops her jaw in surprise, gazing at the large instrument inside the leather case. Her surprise holds back the anger at another useless gift for a while, but she soon spits on the ground in disgust and gives the case a mighty kick. The kick dislodges a note attached to the top of the instrument - a label on the side of the case says that it's a cello - and Giovanna picks it up.

 _Been a while since you've went blind, hasn't it?_

She touches her face in confusion and nods slowly, feeling her eyes carefully. It's been days since she's succumbed to the darkness that those waves of blindness bring, but she hadn't noticed because of the storm. Is she - did something cure her?

It hits her like a slap in the face - it was the dust from that wretched spyglass that had cured her. There was no other reason for it to come - especially since it was broken in the first place. This new gift was just to distract the audience from the fact that she's now the only person in the arena to not suffer from the blindness. She has the advantage.

She can win the Games.  
A slow, wicked smile makes its way onto Giovanna's face, her fingers tracing the wooden instrument and lifting it out of the case. She still has those matches somewhere in the wreck of the fort, and now she has a new reason for her to keep on going, to rebuild.

Are cellos flammable?

 **Ashrifah Kayeut, 16, District Five Female**

The forest seems to grow darker the more she wanders through it, fallen branches and trees leading her along a twisted path of life and death. She hasn't had a good sleep since the third day, she's been too focused on hunting or hiding from the remaining tributes to think about regaining her energy through sleep. It's starting to catch up again with her, but she blinks away the drowsiness and focuses on continuing to move. She can't afford to stop, not yet. She has to find a tribute. Just… one… tribute…

She snaps back to focus, her eyes starting to shut once more. Panem, she's got to keep on moving! She can't stop! Why is she so tired?

She shivers as she wades through the waterline to another portion of the the forest, her feet freezing inside the thin shoes that she has on. She's going to catch her death of cold if she doesn't find a way to start a fire sometime or other. She'll have to -

She pauses, her vision erased suddenly by the whim of that injection from a week ago. All she can see is black as far as she can see, no matter how hard she tries to regain her vision. Her head throbs in pain from her tense stance and she sits down on the ground, clenching her fists just in case some tribute - or some mutt - finds her in her vulnerable condition. She's not going to die, not today. Not today. She'll wait here until the blindness leaves her, and then continue on her hunt. Yeah, that's what she'll do. She should stand back up. She should get ready to keep moving once she regains her vision.

She shifts to her knees and fumbles around for a tree, grabbing onto a trunk of thick, gnarled bark before she hauls herself back up to her feet. There she stands until her vision returns, her sight showing her the waterline once more. It's still at the same level as it was before she had lost her vision, but she can't shake the suspicion that it'll rise sooner or later.

Ashrifah coughs loudly and wipes her nose as she dashes through the water once more, heading uphill towards a random direction. Perhaps she'll find someone, but she wants to be above the water by the time night falls. She can't tell exactly if it's night or day, though - the clouds have blocked what little sunlight that can stream into the forest, but it's been quite a while since she had fully woken up from her restless night. It could be the next day, but there haven't been any cannons yet.

Not yet.

An animal chitters as she passes through a thicket of bushes, scampering up a pine tree before Ashrifah has a good chance to look at it. She doesn't pay much attention to the tiny creature, continuing to move towards the top of the arena. If she listens to the forest, she can hear something that sounds oddly like thunder.

Maybe she's imagining things. The game makers wouldn't have another storm come this soon, would they? Would they?

She stumbles on a root and faceplants into the soil, spitting out dirt and pine needles as she struggles back onto her foot. "Ugh! Disgusting!"

A bird flies from a tree at her exclamation, and Ashrifah rolls her eyes. Her tongue tastes like dirt now, and trying to wipe it off with her sleeve isn't working. She needs some water.

She reluctantly trots back to the water line and impulsively scoops a handful of the liquid, slurping it down her throat greedily before taking more. She can taste a bit of dirt in the water, but it's so icy-cold and refreshing that she can't help but continue to drink more and more. She stays there until she's had her share of water and wipes her mouth, turning back towards her destination. It's time to keep on moving.

She walks up the hill carefully this time, making sure that she doesn't trip over anything. She doesn't want to make a fool of herself on camera again. If she's going to be taken seriously by anyone in the Capitol, she'll have to keep looking serious, not goofy and clumsy. She'll likely regret that mistake later, but she has no time for that now. She has to find a place to shelter from the incoming storm.l

A beeping noise fills the air and she looks up in surprise, watching a small package float down towards her. It nestles itself in a small branch, the package resting lightly on the leaves of the tree. It's about twelve feet above Ashrifah, but just low enough for her to climb up to it.

Ashrifah sighs and walks to the tree, leaping for a branch and using the sheer strength of her arms to hoist herself into the tree. From there she climbs, dodging under jutting branches to get to her prize. And get there she does, snatching the silver canister and taking the parachute after pausing. She quickly descends the tree and tears open her gift, looking at the two knives that glisten as she turns the canister around.

 _They're beautiful_ , she thinks as she traces a long finger on the sharp side of the knife, watching blood trickle out of a small cut on her finger from the blade. She sucks on the finger and looks down at the blades, carefully picking each of them up and tucking them into her belt. The parachute she tucks into her back pocket, and she tosses the canister with the black five on it into the water. It can't help her kill or strangle anyone, and she hasn't seen a large amount of food to package in the canister. She can let some lucky mutt play with it while she focuses on her true goals - to kill.

And kill she will. If she sniffs the air, she can smell blood. Death is coming.

And Ashrifah is going to bring it back to the arena.

 **Bernard Hancock, 12, District Twelve Male**

He coughs as he continues to hold onto the roof of the barn, saddling the top of the metal roof and looking towards the top of the arena. Water stretches out around him almost as far as his eyes can see, coming to a stop a few feet beneath his shoe-clad feet.

Bernard's trapped.

He's honestly surprised that he's still alive, let alone strong enough to have found his way to a dry surface. But he had seized the opportunity to swim to the barn when the storm had calmed down, using a floating branch to help keep him above water in the long swim. His clothes are still soaked from the water, and his stringy hair is clinging to the sides of his cheeks, but he had made it far enough to be safe from the cold, cold water. And that's good enough for him.

There haven't been any cannons today, of that he's certain. After a while, Bernard spent his time entertaining himself by watching the few birds circle over the waters and look for fish to spear with their sharp beaks. He has a count of fifteen so far, all of which are over at the edge of the waters. If he looks closely, he can see them wade in and out of the water. Perhaps they're talking to one another, chatting about the silly tributes who can't seem to find their way out of the waters, or maybe they're searching for prey. But Bernard would give up everything he owns to get to dry land.

He slides down to the edge of the waterline and reluctantly scoops up a handful of water, slowly sipping it out of his palms as he fights the urge to spit it out. He remembers that the instructors always wanted them to boil the water and get the bacteria out of it before drinking it, but he has nothing to use for sanitizing the water, and he's _thirsty_. His parched throat is soothed by the water, but he knows that he'll soon feel the urge to drink later. Until then, he'll have to focus on finding a way off of the rooftop.

Who's left in the arena? He doesn't know for sure, but he's fairly confident in his guesses that it's the girl from Two, the boy from Four, the girl from Five, the boys from Seven and Ten, and the girl from Nine who remain with him, along with Moon. Who's the ninth? He's got no idea. Eh, they won't matter anyway. It's going to be one of the older kids who'll win this game of skill.

Unless Bernard finds a way to beat them all.

The edge of his shoe clips against something that's a bit higher than the surface of the slanted roof, and Bernard looks down in surprise to see a hatch into the barn. It juts out from the normal metal roof, a strip of metal welded onto the hatch for the opening.

He's found an escape route!

He looks up towards the sky before opening the hatch and clambering in, jumping down onto the soaked bales that lie just a bit above the water level and sinking to his knees in relief. He's finally found shelter. And does he see… backpacks strewn across those bales to his right? It is!

He grabs the backpacks and opens them eagerly, grabbing an energy bar and swallowing the thing whole. It tastes absolutely horrible, but he doesn't care. He has food! He has supplies! He doesn't know how they got here, but he has them!

He grins at the water below him and picks up a few of the backpacks, looking towards the hayloft at the other side of the barn. It looks dry, dry enough for him to shelter in for the night. After all, the cloudy sky seems to be darkening even more.

He climbs onto a beam connecting the two sides and quickly traverses the wooden plank with backpacks in his hands, scurrying back to the other side for more in his quest to move them all to the hayloft. After all, he has no fear of a harsh fall from the heights of the plank when water lies just a few feet below him.

Several trips lead all of the backpacks to be dumped into the hayloft, and Bernard sinks to his knees in relief. He's got his treasures in the dryest place in the whole barn, allowing him to wait out the Games for as long as the game makers are content with leaving him there. He may be bored in a few days, but he'll be safe. He'll be alive. He's definitely not going to be the next to die.

The bloated corpse of a cow floats through the barn and Bernard peers down at the dead beast with morbid curiousity, watching the cow slowly drift out of the barn and towards open water. Maybe it'll sink eventually, or maybe it'll float all the way to dry land.

Dry land. Dry land!

If he builds a boat out of the planks in the barn, he can make his way back to dry land before the finale.

Bernard yelps in delight and dances on top of the hayloft, a merry little jig that consists of him beating his feet against the floor and his hands waving wildly in the air. "A boat! A boat! I'll build myself a boat!"

He grins as he walks across the planks once more, landing on a bale and yanking the twine off of it with his bare hands. He can use it to tie the planks together for his boat. After all, it won't be missed by any farmers. They likely gave this hay to the Capitol to use for the arena, and now it'll go to Bernard's use.

He doesn't allow his mind to wander from his idea, starting to gather the materials for assembly back in the hayloft. Bernard has a mission.

And he's not going to fail.

 **Guess who's back?**

 **Yep, it's me, with Day Six! Sorry for abandoning y'all, but I had midterms and a swim course that ate up a ton of time. But I'm back, with half of the interviews written and an itch to write Day Seven soon! Hope you enjoy this deathless chapter, and that it contained lots of interesting moments! Anyways, back to the regularly scripted show. We're still one death away from the final eight. Can you guess who it'll be?**

 **KILL COUNT**

(Italicized are deceased tributes)  
 _Taffeta Paisley, District One Female - 1 Kill  
_ Zora Stikander, District Two Female - 1 Kill  
 _Ajax Hollis, District Two Male - 1 Kill  
_ Keelan Spinnaker, District Four Male - 2 Kills  
Ashrifah Keyaut, District Five Female - 2 Kills  
Ryker Underwood, District Seven Male - 1 Kill  
 _Paxton Webb, District Nine Male - 1 Kill  
_ Giovanna Fillinfini, District Nine Female - 1 Kill  
Marshall Furr, District Ten Male - 1 Kill  
Moon Kraków, District Twelve Female - 1 Kill  
Arena - 3 Kills

 **DISTRICT PLACEMENTS**

District Two  
District Four  
District Five  
District Six  
District Seven  
District Nine  
District Ten  
District Twelve  
9th: District Three  
10th: District One  
11th: District Eleven  
12th: District Eight

 **Alliances**

Anti-Ashrifah™: Marshall, Ryker

Wait there's lots of us now yet we're still alone: Ashrifah, Giovanna, Moon, Bernard, Keelan, Zora, Isa

The Dead: Lincoln, Tony, Hollister, Nehemiah, Wyatt, Cornelia, Carol, Paxton, Pepper, Mira, Luxx, Monique, Aris, Taffeta, Shawn, Ajax

 **I'm lazy so even though I should, I won't put up the sponsor points now. Next chapter! Anyways, the cello was from Silver, but I gave the knives to spice things up. Let's see if I can't spit out a chapter in the next week, and RIP to Stan Lee as well as a thanks to all who are still here. Prepare for a lot of drama in the next few days, possibly the next week in the arena! Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	38. Day VII: Birds of a Feather

**Keelan Spinnaker, 17, District Four Male**

He shakes his head as birds fly over the cornucopia, roosting on the top of the golden structure and overlooking the rest of the arena. "Shoo! I've got no food here for you pests!"

The birds scatter with a well-aimed stone thrown from his hand, and Keelan sits back down to continue sharpening his spear. It's already the seventh day in this wretched arena, and he still hasn't found anyone. Well, anyone other than Isa, but the girl had run before he had a chance to silence her. So close to making sure he was entering the final eight, yet so far. No matter, he has the cornucopia now, the safest place in the entire arena. He'll be just fine.

As long as he doesn't die from paranoia.

Last night brought the howling of what might be dogs to the cornucopia, and he had spent most of the night on the roof of the structure, clutching his sleeping bag to his body, feeling for his spear every few minutes, and just waiting for rain to pour down from the heavens and utterly drench him. But ten nearly-sleepless hours later, no rain has come and the howls have subsided.

Which is why it's so miserable that his body has decided the day is a good time to stay awake even though he only got an hour of sleep at most last night.

He feels around for a packet of chips and opens it up quickly, a few of the crispy pieces falling towards the ground. Keelan deftly catches them before they spill onto the dirt and pops them into his mouth, savouring the cheesy and salty taste of the food. At least he has most of the food in the arena. He's got no need to go hunting for mutts when he has full meals hidden in the back of the cornucopia, does he? He can feast like a king for now, waiting to fight anyone who stumbles into the meadow. He can take most of the remaining tributes in the arena, only struggling with the boys from Seven and Ten. Judging by the fact that the girl from Five has lost her mace in the escape from the career pack, he has the upper hand over her as well. The only person that he has to watch out for is Zora - the girl might choose to strike him at any moment. But he'll be ready. He can't be anything else but ready for his fight against her.

Panem, it was so _moronic_ for the careers to split up this early in the Games. If he and Zora had stuck together instead of Keelan abandoning his former ally - now likely his enemy - they would have been able to tell Isa the truth with little to no lies about the horrors of their hunt. It would have been perfect, all three of them safe and snug in the cornucopia, ready to attack whatever stupid mutts which thought it was a good idea to cross all three of the careers. They could have been a power alliance, for Panem's sake, holding a third of the tributes left and and easily hunting down the remaining teens - and the boy from Twelve, Keelan's pretty sure he's only twelve - who had found sanctuary in the forests to the side of the arena. But the rain and Zora's crazed eyes had gotten to him and he had left her to drown, escaping to wherever he could find a place to hide.

And from the fact that her cannon hasn't sounded yet, Zora's done the same.

He stands up and begins his patrol of the hill once more, one of his attempts to drive the fear away that the mutts that he had heard howling last night are surely gone for the time being. His spear clenched in his firm hand, Keelan begins the trek to the bottom of the hill and starts his search. He stabs at the thorny branches in grim satisfaction and continues to move around the hillside, looking into the tunnel towards the rest of the arena when he reaches it. A decision is made and he moves into the tunnel, pushing aside broken branches and stones as he surveys the rest of the arena. It's still flooded at the bottom half for as far as he can see, the outline of the barn in the distance almost covered by water. Only the roof and part of the walls remain above the rainwaters, beckoning tributes to come shelter within its safety.

He wouldn't go there even if he could. The game makers will likely continue flooding the arena the very hour things get dull in the arena.

He walks back towards the cornucopia and continues his search, breathing a sigh of relief when he completes the trip around the hill. He stretches his legs before sprinting back to the top of the hill, taking his seat on a container next to the ashes of the fire. It's still quite calm in the arena, the cannons still silent for now. The Capitolites will likely get bored if this continues, sending out mutts or announcing a feast for all of the tributes to attend, anything to stir the Games up. But Keelan will continue to stick close the cornucopia, staying away from any tributes unless he has a chance to off them.

He's going to make it to the final eight, whether the Capitol likes it or not.

A sudden shriek causes him to look up at the air, where he notices a large swarm of birds flying through the air past the thorn walls surrounding the cornucopia. Their wings beat in anger as they look down at something, likely a poor tribute who has found themselves the target of the mutts.

A single caw rings through the air, causing Keelan to wince at the vibration of the cry. He quickly puts his hands over his ears, waiting for their cries to end. The birds have decided to attack.

 **Moon Kraków, 17, District Twelve Female**

She frowns as she continues to walk through the fields, breaking off stalks of wheat and kicking the dirt in frustration. She's lost her holes to the waterline after the storm, the traps covered by the slimy water of the flood from a few nights before. Now she has nothing but the shovel that she had managed to find in the panic of hiding from the storm in the shack next to the waters. All of her other supplies had been swept away in the storm, and now she's aimlessly wandering these fields in hopes of finding a tribute or supplies to take for herself. But the past day has rewarded her with nothing, and she's beginning to feel the first true pangs of hunger attack her body. If she doesn't do something quickly, she's going to be the next to die.

She's royally screwed, isn't she?

Moon tramples a lilac as she continues to walk through the fields, the small flower being flattened by her sturdy boot. She scoffs at the delicate flower and pushes through another wall of wheat, cursing as she's soaked by the water clinging to the stalks of wheat. Why can't the sun come out and properly dry up the arena? It's miserable in the arena now, especially with the waterline causing the arena to shrink even more. It's quite a surprise, actually, to know that no one's died since the fifth day. If anything, there should be even more conflicts with the arena being this much smaller.

She sighs at the thought of home, twisting her hair with her fingers and remembering the warmth of her bed. She hasn't slept in one for a week, doomed to lie on the ground with little else but a jacket and the stalks of wheat that are so abundant in this field.

A hiss startles Moon and she yelps at a sudden pain, crushing the yellow and brown snake under her foot. She yanks off her boot and gasps at the swollen bite, looking at the puss already oozing from the wound. Oh Panem, she just got bitten by a poisonous snake, hasn't she? No, a venomous one. She remembers her grandmother teaching the difference between poisonous and venomous snakes when she was younger, nodding along when Grandmother told her sternly that she'd have to eat a poisonous snake in order to get poisoned by it. No, it's venomous.

And she may have just sealed her grave in the arena. Shit.

She pushes the boot back on before her foot swells up too much, knowing that she's got to compress the wound somehow. If she gets a tourniquet… yeah, that would work. She has to rip off a part of her jacket to sufficiently cut off the blood flow to her foot, but she's rewarded with the sight of a black substance stopping at the tourniquet. She wasn't a moment too soon - another minute, and that might have made it all the way up her leg. She's lucky.

Angered, Moon smashes the shovel into a stalk of wheat and breaks it. She screams into the air, throwing the shovel up to satisfy her desire to hurt someone, something, anything. The shovel hits a crow and it falls to the ground, it's head in a strange position as it lets out one last squawk. Moon bends down to look at the beast, poking it with the fallen shovel and realizing that she killed it. Shrugging, she kicks the bird away from her and starts to turn towards the forest. It's a good a place as any to find a place to hide and hope for a sponsor to come help her, and she's not going to be picky about where she's going in the arena now. She'll start her journey there right after she catches her breath.

A loud squawk comes from above and Moon looks up, noticing a huge crowd of birds hovering over her. One makes a movement with its wings that seem to point directly to Moon, and she realizes what they're about to do.

They're going to rip her from limb to limb if she doesn't run.

She sprints off just as the birds divebomb her, most of the crows crashing into the ground where she stood while others manage to fly after the fleeing outlier. Moon pants for breath as she pushes past the wheat, desperate to find someplace to hide. Oh Panem, she's got to run! Run! Run!

She stumbles in a dip of the incline down to the water but doesn't stop running, the thought that she'll eventually reach the waterline evading her. So onwards she sprints, the birds flying overhead and attempting to strike. A few birds nip at her clothes and others pull out strands of hair, but she only shrieks in anger and continues to run. She isn't going to stop just because they're trying to rip out her hair.

Too late she realizes that she's running into the water, and she falls into the slimy liquid, going kneedeep as she tries to push herself back up and get out. But the birds attack before she has a chance to escape, pushing her under the water and pecking, pecking, always pecking at her! She screams and swats the birds away, crawling to dry land where she grabs her fallen shovel. Birds are hit into all direction by her newfound weapon while the rest continue their attack, Moon grimly swinging as blood starts to drip from her face. But her arms can only swing so much, and she curls up into a ball in an effort to protect herself from the birds as they start to rip at her flesh once more.

She rocks back and forth, trying to crawl away from this cloud of death. But she's lost too much blood by now, and all she can do is shut her eyes and hope that they lose interest before she lapses into unconsciousness.

But for all that she hopes, she knows that they won't stop.

 **Ashrifah Kayeut, 16, District Five Female**

She watches the birds flock and attack whoever is standing in the middle of the fields, cringing as she hears a shriek of pain come from the tribute. Thank Panem it isn't her who'll be the next to die, leaving only eight tributes to fight it out for the crown of the victor.

And Ashrifah's still here to fight for it, just like she expected.

She hadn't doubted her ability to fight in these Games for an instant, but she's still pleased to be in this position. With her knives and the rabbit that she had managed to catch last night, she'll be doing well for the next few days. If she's careful enough, she might even be able to go on the hunt again.

Now that, that would be truly special.

She turns back into the forest and continues to walk, reciting her rules of survival. "Stay hydrated, stay fed, and keep your weapons on you. Stay hydrated, stay fed, and keep your weapons on you. Stay hydrated, stay fed, and keep your weapons on you. That, that will make sure that you're always safe in the arena. _But don't_ mess with any mutts! Mutts are a no-no, Ashrifah. You mess with a mutt, you offend the Capitol. And you can't piss off the Capitol."

She smiles at what her mother had taught her every night that she was home, squeezing the knife in her hand tightly. Now that she had to leave the corpse of the rabbit that she had caught back in the forest she had regretted her choice to leave the containers, but the truth of the matter was that she didn't have any way to carry them. Eh, she'll be able to find more animals later on, as long as she continues to be able to make fires out of the flint and stones that she's conveniently found in the forest. The game makers must have decided to toss a few flint stones into the woods so that any tributes looking for a way to cook their meals wouldn't starve to death.

A sound from behind causes her to jump in the air, her heart racing as she hears the chatter of a tribute. No, not just one tributes, two of them. It has to be the boys from Seven and Ten, it has to!

A wicked grin comes over her face and she moves silently to the side of the forest, waiting for them to pass. She'll wait until they're caught off guard, and then she can pounce. Then, and only then, she'll be able to take her third and fourth kills.

Ah, it's good to be on the hunt again.

She stalks them for what must be hours, not daring to breathe every time she accidentally steps on a twig or brushes against a tree. But the boys never look back, quietly talking to themselves and looking ahead for tributes, never behind. To be sure that they don't see her, Ashrifah pauses for a second and waits for them to get a bit further ahead before she continues her journey. The fools, they have no idea that she's been stalking them for all of this time.

She gets her chance to pounce when the boy from Seven pauses to tie his shoe, the other slumping impatiently against a fallen tree. She grins with anticipation as she silently walks towards them, drawing her knife and aiming it towards the boy from Ten. If she can get him out of commission, she can surprise the boy from Seven before he even has a chance to react.

The boy from Ten coughs loudly and wipes his brow, his face seeming to turn a little more flushed every time he takes a breath. "I think I've still got a bit of the fever we talked about last night. We might have to rest for a little longer before we move on, I don't want to overstretch myself and leave you without an ally."

Ashrifah's knife flies towards the boy from Ten and hits him in the shoulder before he has a chance to react, causing him to yell in pain. She grins and throws her second knife, landing in the arm of the boy from Seven. The boys have realized that she's behind them and turn around, both pulling out their knives and tossing them to the ground. The first boy grabs an axe while the boy from Ten nocks an arrow to his bow, causing Ashrifah to dodge behind a tree as the arrow comes whistling through the air and harmlessly into the ground. She stays behind the tree until the second arrow lands on the ground and then charges towards the boy from Ten, giving a flick of her knife to the bow before he has a chance to fire once more.

The rope binding the bow together snaps and lashes into the boy's face, leaving a massive welt down the side of his cheek. The boy screams and charges towards Ashrifah, but she grabs one of the fallen knives and dodges the axe that the boy from Seven throws right at the back of her neck. She's overstayed her welcome.

The boys chase after her for a bit before giving up, turning back to nurse their own wounds where they had left Ten's bow. Ashrifah runs for a solid five minutes, dodging through the woods one way and another as she makes sure that her path is untraceable. Only when she reaches a large fallen tree she stops and gasps for breath, her brow furrowing into an angered expression. She should have managed to kill both of the boys, but she couldn't even get one of them. It's a failure.

She pauses in the middle of her angry thoughts, shaking her head. No, she managed to injure two tributes and leave them to recuperate. At the very least, she's slowed them down for later hunting.

Her hunt wasn't such a failure after all.

 **Ryker Underwood, 18, District Seven Male**

Their fight against that girl from Five was a total failure.

Marshall curses as he tries to dab healing cream onto the lash decorating the side of his cheek, throwing the jar of the cream onto the ground in frustration. "How are we supposed to fight against someone like her? How didn't we manage to react quickly enough to her! We should have paid more attention to our backs, Ryker. We should have done more. Maybe if we did, we wouldn't be in this position."

Ryker shrugs, taking a bite of the dried meat that had been stored in his backpack. "We'll be okay, Marshall. As long as we keep our heads on our shoulders and be more careful tomorrow, something like this won't happen again." He pauses to dab the healing cream onto the messy wound on his arm, wincing at the pain that comes with it. "We'll hunt her down, just like we promised when Aris died! Don't worry, Marshall. She's as good as dead as soon as well find her again."

The boy from Ten coughs loudly and Ryker cringes, taking a step towards Marshall as his body is wracked in coughing. "Are you okay, Marshall? Do you need anything? You look really sick, you know. I guess the storm still got to you, even if we managed to stay in the trees in our expedition to dry land. You probably need some medicine. Do you want me to look for some for you in the backpacks?"

Marshall gives a weak sigh, curling up into the blankets that he's unpacked for the night and watching the forest move in the darkness of the evening. "I guess - I guess so. I better just get some sleep. I'm feeling cold now… I guess that means that I might be feeling a bit better, hopefully."

Ryker nods, not bothering to alarm Marshall with the fact that it means he's gone into a more serious part of the fever. "Look here, just take the painkillers we have and get to bed. Wake me up in the night if you need anything, I don't want you to die on me so close to the final eight."

Marshall nods and turns over onto his side, groaning painfully. "I'm hoping that the game makers get rid of someone tonight. I don't want to die out of the final eight."

"Neither of us do," reassures Ryker, stacking all of the backpacks next to him as he settles into his sleeping bag. "Don't worry. We'll make it there as soon as another tribute dies - and with this weather, I don't think that it'll take that long."

Marshall nods sleepily and rolls over in his sleeping bag before jolting up, his face paling rapidly. "Di you hear the cannon?"

Ryker frowns, looking up at the sky. "No, there wasn't any cannon. You might be hallucinating it or dreaming or something. Try to go to bed, that'll help you out."

The Capitol Anthem plays and no headshot of signifying the death of a poor tribute shows up in the sky, causing Ryker to nod with confidence. "See, it was all just a dream. Get to bed, we need our sleep for the days to come."

Marshall's already asleep, whispering things to himself in his dreams before starting to snore. Ryker rolls his eyes and turns in his sleeping bag, letting his eyes close and his body warm up in the comfortable fabric. They'll be… just… fine… tomorrow…

He jolts awake as a panicked Marshall taps him repeatedly on the shoulder, pointing up at the sky. "I just heard a cannon go off, Ryker."

"You know what happened the last time you heard one," is the reply from a groggy Ryker, closing his eyes once more and attempting to drift back to sleep. "Go back to bed."

"Look at the sky!" is Marshall's answer, yanking Ryker up with burning-hot hands and pointing at the space between the treetops. There is the clear face of the girl from Twelve, soberly overlooking the arena before disappearing once last time into the night. "I told you I heard it this time!"

Ryker gasps in shock, standing up in his sleeping bag and looking around in the forest. It all seems creepier, more dangerous now that there's only eight of them left.

Only seven have to die before Ryker can go home.

Marshall coughs loudly and staggers out of his sleeping bag, retching up his meal from the evening. Ryker looks away and avoids smelling the vomit, Marshall taking a large chug out of one of the two water bottles that they have left. The boy from Ten curls back into his sleeping bag and soon drifts back to sleep, muttering things to himself in his state of fever. The poor guy, even in the dark Ryker can tell that he's badly sick. If his immune system isn't strong enough to carry him through this illness or if anyone's close enough to find the two, they'll need a sponsor to get themselves out of this mess.

Ryker lies back down and looks up at the sky, the clouds still hanging over the arena. It'll be raining soon, raising the water and confining the remaining tributes to a strip of the formerly huge arena. They'll be doomed to meet each other somewhere in the next few days. The Games will likely be over in less than a week.

Oh Panem, all he wants is to be the one to go home. That's all he wants.

He closes his eyes and thinks of home, picturing his room in his eyes. The beige walls and his bed pop out in his mind to him, with a picture of Sabrina standing on his small bedside table. She's just as beautiful as she is in real life, grinning cheekily to the camera and brushing back her hair. He smiles and starts to yawn, slipping further and further into sleep.

He sleeps a dreamless, uneasy sleep until dawn.

 **FINAL EIGHT HYPE WOOOOOP**

 **We're at the final eight! Surprised that I got another chapter out this quickly? I am too! I should continue working on my math assignment after this, but know that I finished the final eight interviews for the next chapter! And you know what that means :DDDDDDDDD Hiraeth is coming! Remember to sub there before the first prologue goes up so I can have 24 subs before the first prologue, and link is on my profile!**

 **Some of you thought that Moon was going to be the next to die, so I can't say anything about shocking you there, but she's one away from the elite eight. Press F to pay respects, pls**

 **9th: Moon Kraków, District Twelve Female; ripped apart by crows**

With Moon's death, there are officially no district partners left in the Games! Saddening, I know, but there are eight districts left in the running! Excitement! Anyways, Moon was quite interesting. Her morbid nature and her standoffish personality caused me to think of her as a villain of sorts, and I planned to kill her off in the bloodbath before realizing a potential arc for her b/c of one of Knifey's reviews: to turn her into a game maker trap of sorts. This led to the iconic hole scene, where we lost two! careers and split up the pack for good, and that'll forever be Moon's destiny. Safe to say she won't be forgotten in the Capitol ;) thanks for the great character, BabyRue11, and I hope you enjoyed her arc if you're still around!

 **Statistics and all that are here, don't worry :p**

 **KILL COUNT  
** (Italicized are deceased tributes)  
 _Taffeta Paisley, District One Female - 1 Kill  
_ Zora Stikander, District Two Female - 1 Kill  
 _Ajax Hollis, District Two Male - 1 Kill  
_ Keelan Spinnaker, District Four Male - 2 Kills  
Ashrifah Keyaut, District Five Female - 2 Kills  
Ryker Underwood, District Seven Male - 1 Kill  
 _Paxton Webb, District Nine Male - 1 Kill  
_ Giovanna Fillinfini, District Nine Female - 1 Kill  
Marshall Furr, District Ten Male - 1 Kill  
 _Moon Kraków, District Twelve Female - 1 Kill  
_ Arena - 4 Kills

 **DISTRICT PLACEMENTS**

District Two  
District Four  
District Five  
District Six  
District Seven  
District Nine  
District Ten  
District Twelve  
9th: District Three  
10th: District One  
11th: District Eleven  
12th: District Eight

 **Alliances**

Anti-Ashrifah™: Marshall, Ryker

Wait there's lots of us now yet we're still alone: Ashrifah, Giovanna, Moon, Bernard, Keelan, Zora, Isa

The Dead: Lincoln, Tony, Hollister, Nehemiah, Wyatt, Cornelia, Carol, Paxton, Pepper, Mira, Luxx, Monique, Aris, Taffeta, Shawn, Ajax

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 **If your sponsor gift hasn't been sent yet, it will be, don't worry! I'm keeping track of everything! (I hope lol) Keep reviewing, keep doing things, and don't forget to like and subscribe to my roblox account! (and sub to Hiraeth YEET) Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	39. Final Eight Interviews: First to Die

**For reference, this is Day Eight in the arena. Next chapter is Day Nine!**

 **Slate Stikander, 48, District Two Citizen**

He straightens his tie once more and holds his wife's hand, watching the cameras quickly get arranged around their small kitchen by excited photographers and an interviewer step closer towards them. One of them speaks into a small device, having an animated discussion with one of his coworkers. "So the District Twelve team is only working with the boy from Twelve's family? Yes, I am aware that our team prepared for Ajax Hollis and the group in Three have either joined up with us or headed home, I was just making sure that you don't interview Moon Kraków by accident. Stranger things have happened."

The man clicks the device shut and turns towards the Stikanders with a fake smile plastered on his face, holding out a manicured hand for them to shake. "A pleasure to work with you!"

Viola Stikander nods absently and slides a glove on before shaking the man's hand, tucking it into her purse after she does so. "She's a bit of a mysophobe, sir," Slate apologizes, wiping his face with a clean handkerchief before putting it back into his pocket. "I do hope you're not offended, she just wants to stay clean."

The man smiles once more - slightly annoyed, as a matter of fact - and turns to the camera crew. "Ready to roll?"

"Ready when you are," replies a sweaty woman behind one of the cameras, giving the thumbs up to the interviewer. The man grins and turns to the Stikanders, taking a seat at the counter and preparing his first question. "Here we are with Slate and Viola Stikander, the proud parents of Zora, one of our final eight! Tell me, how does it feel to have a daughter this far in the Games? Are you worried for her safety?"

"Of course. We have supported Zora every step of the way, and we will not stop doing so now. She'll do well, even if she's been caught in that silly hole. She made it out, though, and her bones are young and strong. She won't catch anything. Your tie is loose, young man," Viola says, her black hair shining in the light as she gazes sternly at the interviewer. The man flushes and tightens his tie, directing the next question to Slate.

"Do you think that Zora will be missing home? And what will she think of this betrayal by Keelan? Could we expect a showdown sometime in the next few days if one finds the other?"

"Of course not. Our girl is out there for one reason and one reason only: to win. She won't feel homesick. She can't afford to, not with competitors like Ashrifah and Keelan. She'll make that boy from Four pay for what he's done. Zora doesn't like cheaters" Slate raises his mouth to a confident smile, his dark skin etched with marks and scars from working in the mines. Zora will make it. She has to.

She will.

 **Misty Cray, 16, District Four Citizen**

Bastion coughs loudly and Misty punches him in the side, making sure that the blow is out of sight of the cameras. "Idiot!" she hisses, glaring at him from her seat. "We're supposed to bring support for Keelan, not act stupid! Just shut up and don't sneeze on television!"

Bastion glares before softening it into a neutral gaze when their interviewer turns back to the teens, her green hair prominent on her pale face. "So you live with Keelan?"

"Yes, we've set up a system where we all take turns paying rent for this small apartment. Working in the shipyards helps out with that quite a lot," Misty says politely, trying not to crumble under the gaze of the interviewer. She doesn't like her gaze. "Keelan does just as much as we do."

"Do you know why he volunteered?" questions the interviewer, sniffing the salty air with delight. "I would find it hard to leave this absolute _paradise_ of a district."

Misty quells a harsh laugh, keeping herself by listening to Bastion answer the question. The interviewer either has forgotten or doesn't know about the storms that kill parents every year, including her own, and the harsh penalties placed on those who dare to steal pearls or fish for the family. Security is high in a district where one can easily take supplies meant for the Capitol and use it for their own family instead.

"Keelan has always wanted more for us all, as we do as well. Although our life is cozy, we've never had it perfect. Keelan wanted to give us all a better life," replies Bastion with a curt gaze, fidgeting in his seat. He wisely left out the fact that the reason Keelan really volunteered was to help them escape the lashes of overseers in the docks, to save them all from the chain of hangings and whippings for those who dared to steal so that their children would survive. Bastion would have volunteered as well, but Keelan had won the coin toss and therefore took the right to help them rise out of poverty. If he dies, Bastion plans to volunteer next year, then Misty after that.

"How are you related?" the interviewer inquires, momentarily distracted by a few shirtless men walking towards the docks. Misty smiles to herself and prepares to answer, pushing her hair back and looking into the camera.

"Bastion and I are siblings, and we met Keelan back when we were young. We're all best friends, in a sense." Of course, Keelan and Bastion are closer to one another than she is, but they protect her as their sister. And she would always do the same if they needed her.

But she can't help Keelan, only pray to whatever looks over the oceans to spare Keelan from death. He doesn't deserve to die. He has to win.

She needs him to come back home.

 **Fulgur Kayeut, 46, District Five Citizen**

He sits alone in the large house that the interviewers have set up in, keeping his back straight and his head up. Just like back in the corps.

An interviewer thrusts a microphone towards him, his garish blue hair contrasting horribly with his tanned skin. "What is your occupation, Mr. Kayeut? Has your daughter taken after you in your profession, or has she shied away from your past?"

He smiles firmly, his head throbbing from the memory of the visor he always wore over his eyes. Everything seems so much brighter since then. "Six years with the District Two Peacekeepers. I broke my leg six years in during a shootout with a few rebels and was deemed unfit for service. I was officially retired, and, as a young, bright pup of 29, I decided to start a family in Five. Now here I am, living a quiet life with Ashrifah and my wife of sixteen years."

"Where does your wife work?" asks the interviewer, smiling with shiny, clean teeth that make Fulgur want to gag. He doesn't trust someone who shows their teeth that widely. Whenever animals do so, they're prepared to attack. He's not convinced that humans don't do the same.

"My wife lived in the Capitol before the Dark Days, and moved back on a semi-permanent basis as an assistant for President Ember. Ashrifah gets to see her on holidays, but she's missed in this household. That's why Ashrifah took up combat skills."

"We see," croons the interviewer, smiling widely now that he's dug into the good bits. "Why did she volunteer?"

Honestly, Fulgur doesn't know. This volunteering is all from his wife; Helena was always a flighty one, but fierce. He doesn't miss her anymore, there are enough pretty girls in the district to keep him satisfied. "Helena had given Ashrifah her best qualities: determination, cunning, and strength, and Ashrifah needed an outlet. So I allowed her to start up a fitness regimen, including martial arts with myself." He neglects to mention that her room is filled with weapons he had called in favours to receive, all ready for her to use if she comes home. _When_ she comes home.

The interviewer nods wisely, one of the camera-men moving closer to Fulgur so that they can get a better angle on his face. "Are you worried for her survival? She's in the final eight, but the alliance of Ryker and Marshall are ready to hunt her down. If she doesn't keep her wits about her, she may be the next to die..."

"Ashrifah will be ready to fight the alliance hunting her down. She is stronger than a pair of teens from the outer-districts, and will easily prove that when they finally meet." Fulgur stops and rubs his chin, looking into the cameras. He's not sure if he means that, he's still not sure whether Ashrifah even has a chance at victory. "And she will win, I can promise you that. Once Ashrifah sets out to do something, she does not stop until she has finished."

He says that for himself.

 **Annique James, 43, District Six Citizen**

Briar is smiling for the cameras, but Annique can tell that her daughter is not impressed with all of the work that was put into this interview. Oh well, Briar has always been a minimalist, unlike herself. She'll learn in time that hard work will always make good things. After all, her husband had worked for _months_ before striking it lucky in the stock market and raising Steelezcorp to the heights that it is now. But Briar doesn't seem willing to listen to her parents, dating a young artist from the middle of City-3 who wouldn't have more than a sesterce to his name.

The interviewer graciously shakes Annique's hand, looking in appreciation around the large house. "Did you inherit your manor, or did you manage to buy this beautiful house with money that you made yourself?"

Annique nods and ponders the question, lifting her head up to answer the question. The interviewers are obviously unaware that there is no way to survive in the districts well-off unless you have ties in the Capitol. And of that, she has plenty. "My father is a resident of the Capitol, as well as my husband's mother. They graciously donated money to start up Steelezcorp, which controls a twelfth of the manufacturing profits in Six." The Capitol had also personally helped to cripple a few other companies for Steelezcorp to rise to the top - a fact only known by herself and her father, who had called in a few favours to do so, but no one needs to know that, especially her daughters.

"How do you believe Isa will do?" the interviewer asks, looking over at the television that Briar has playing in the background, just in case something noteworthy happens to Isa during their interviews. But nothing will - the girl is safe in the fields, although she'll be quite cold for the next few nights. She'll likely need a blanket to keep her warm.

"Isa is a smart girl. She will do as well as she can, hopefully coming home in the process," says Martin, drawing the last sentence out as he turns towards Annique. "Our little girl will come home."

Annique wipes away a tear and nods, looking towards the cameras. "She has to."

She won't let her little girl go. Isa will come home, even if Annique has to sell her very soul to the Capitol to do so.

 **Bella Underwood, 18, District Seven Citizen**

She adjusts her position on her chair and gazes towards her parents, her hands shivering in anticipation for her turn in front of the cameras. If it was up to her, she would go back into her room and watch her twin through the tiny television set that she had saved up for last year, but she doesn't have that luxury now. Not when Ryker's in the Games and with an injured ally.

She can almost feel Ryker's pain in the arm where the girl from Five hit him, the ugly wound gaping open for the world - and infections - to see. Classmates had always gossiped that Bella and Ryker were _psychic_ , that they had strange ways of communicating that others would never experience, but they always vehemently denied it. For all of the times they had tried, they had never once been able to reach out to one another in their minds.

She'd give everything she owns to talk with him one last time.

The interviewer turns towards Bella and grins, her golden teeth shining in the lights that the interview crew had set up to help the cameras have better focus on the Underwoods. "Now then, you _are_ Ryker Underwood's twin sister, I presume?"

"Yes." Bella swallows back her fears and breathes deeply, focusing on the interviewer. "My twin is stronger than almost everyone in there. If he isn't surprised by anyone or a mutt, he'll be able to win. He has to. Sabrina's waiting for him back here, and she's promised not to stop wearing black until he comes back. I'm doing the same as well."

"Sabrina? As in Ryker's love, Sabrina?" Bella nods at the question and gestures towards Ryker's girlfriend in the background, who waves shyly at the cameras. Her hair shines in the light and she pushes it behind her shoulders, a teary smile hovering on her lips.

The interviewer smiles kindly towards Sabrina and turns back to Bella, the mic pushed even closer to Bella's face. "What have you thought of your brother's performance? Any key moments that the audience back in the Capitol and across Panem might have missed during the action of this first week?"

Bella pauses, thinking of what Ryker had done over the past week. Then she thinks of it, a smile coming to her face as she speaks once more. "He's been on a hunt for the girl from Five, Ashrifah Kayeut, but what you don't know is that he's simultaneously leading Marshall away from the water. My brother knows when an area will be dangerous, and he's fleeing it now before it's too late. As long as Marshall doesn't betr-" she stops, shutting her mouth and looking innocently towards the cameras. She's not going to confess to the world her fears about the silent boy from Ten. Not today.

"As long as Marshall _what?_ " the interviewer asks, her lips turning up into a cruel smile. "Is there anything else you want to tell the viewers?"

Bella starts to shake her head, but she's interrupted by the television.

Another cannon has sounded.

 **Hadley Fillinfini, 12, District Nine Citizen**

She shuffles her feet against the scuffed tile of their tiny kitchen, Lennon taking the lead for the interviews while a nurse helps Dad to sit upright in his large chair, quietly putting tiny heaters at his feet, and covering Hadley's father with soft comforters and blankets. He still shouldn't be out of bed, but he insisted on speaking to the interviewers today, with the conditions that a nurse would be seated alongside them to help out in case anything happens to him. He wouldn't give up the chance to give a last goodbye to his daughter after he missed her in the goodbye-rooms.

A large assortment of food lies behind the Fillinfinis, more than Hadley's ever seen on a table together in her lifetime. The final eight always means that the families of the remaining tribute get gifts from the Capitol in forms of food and oil, and her family is no exception. It'll help them all live until she's old enough to get a job in the fields, which shouldn't be too long. There's always open jobs in the fields for youngsters willing to make a few extra sesterces for their families, the dangers of the jobs that girls like Hadley perform leave many open slots. For now, she can rest, prepared to take up the slack as soon as the food runs out.

Or until Giovanna comes back home.

Lennon hands the microphone over to his father, who coughs loudly and gives a weak smile to the cameras. Hadley notes in satisfaction that Trisha has been silent for once; the girl never gives up attention if she doesn't have to. Maybe it's the shock that Giovanna is gone or something else, but she's been quieter, more subdued since the reapings. Giovanna would have checked in on her by now, Hadley curses inwardly, making a mental note to play with Trisha after the interviews. Trisha needs to distract herself from the Games.

The interviewer leans in towards Hadley's father and smiles brightly, her purple hair clinging to her tanned face. "What is the edge that Giovanna has over the competition? Any unnamed secrets that you might want to reveal to our audience?" She sits back and waits for Mr. Fillinfini to answer, pursing her lips together tightly.

"I… my Giovanna is a good girl. She's smart and strong, and she loves kids. But she's always been ready to go to the Games. She wouldn't let Hadley take tesserae this year, only herself. And she knows how to fight - I've watched her practice with sticks outside for spears and whatnot. She's a strong girl, a good girl." He pauses, out of breath for the moment. The nurse clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth and helps him to sit up more, coaching him to breathe.

"In and out, Mr. Fillinfini, in and - oh my."

The interviewers and the Fillinfinis pause, listening to the cannon sound throughout the kitchen.

Seven tributes left.

 **Connor Furr, 67, District Ten Citizen**

His white hair and solid frame rests in the light of the cameras as his son continues to talk to the Capitolites, explaining Marshall's relation to the rest of the district and his biggest accomplishments. The twins are sniffling away tears behind their mother, and Connor sympathetically slips them both a mint. Fresh from the untouched apothecary, the girls could use the sweets after the past few weeks.

They all need a break after these Games.

He gives a cough as his daughter-in-law starts to cry as she tells the interviewers about how Marshall was the sweetest boy one could possibly know, and how he was the light of all of their lights. She had obviously decided not to talk about the real Marshall - the one who could make decisions on the fly and impress Connor with his cold logic. That was the grandson he knew, not the snivelling wimp that Grace was describing for all the Capitol to hear. If they had given him any say in their talk last night about the interviews, he would have made sure that would have highlighted Marshall's strengths, like the fire and his responsibilities on the farm - maybe adding in the fact that Marshall never shows how he feels.

The interviewer shoves a mic under one of the twin's face - Connor thinks that it might be Miriam, he can never tell for sure - and the startled girl stammers out a reply about what she thought of her older brother. "He's very smart - Miriam and I always like to sneak up on him in the fields when he gets to watch the cattle but he always see us, and he loves animals."

So it _isn't_ Miriam. Damn.

Courtney continues to talk to the cameras, the real Miriam squeezing her hand as the Capitolite grins at them both. "He isn't friendly to new people unless he gets to know them. He doesn't like saying hi to mine and Mare's friends whenever we bring them over. He hides with a book instead. Da says that he's nervous but smart, but he wouldn't betray a single thing. He's going to stick with his ally, Ryker, forever!"

"No, he won't!" Miriam cuts in, pointing at the television in the background in anger. "Marshall is _smart_. He's going to get rid of any allies he has soon enough, just you wait!"

A cannon suddenly booms through the room and Connor is the first to reach the screen, fiddling with the antennae to get clearer visuals and quietly cursing the fact that the set had been partially broken in the fire. He niftly gets the static to turn clear and they see a fevered Marshall stand over the body of his ally, his chest heaving in and out like a machine.

Grace cries out in horror and sobs into the shoulder of her husband, who pales at the sight of his angered son. The woman stands up and yells at the cameras angrily, trying to justify Marshall's action to the Capitolites. "He didn't mean to do it! It was the fever, dammit! Just leave my poor boy alone! Leave him alone… alone..."

The Capitolites gasp at the development in the Games, one of them dialling what could be the group in Seven. Only Connor stands firm and tall, taking the hands of the twins with the withered ones of his own.

 _That's_ the Marshall he knows.

 **Marshall Hancock, 18, District Twelve Citizen**

The Hancocks all stare at the body of the boy from Seven, Marshall Furr standing over the corpse of his ally with a wild look in his eyes. He grabs a backpack from the boy and staggers away, his face flushed with fever and emotion.

The interviewer clears her throat uncomfortably and turns back towards the family, her velvet choker lopsidedly holding onto her neck. "Well… umm… do you have anything to say about Bernard's one in seven chances of winning the sixteenth annual Hunger Games?"

Wyatt nods slowly, bobbing his head back and forth as he speaks to the cameras. "Bernard will do well if he listens to his mentor and doesn't go and do anything stupid. He should stay in that barn for the next bit of the Games if you ask me. He's safe there until the finale. As long as he doesn't get one of his _ideas_..."

"What he means is that Bernard has a wonderful imagination, but he doesn't put it to very good use. I hope my boy just is able to stay out of the water and find a new source of it. I don't trust that water, no I don't." Marion Hancock settles back into her seat with a look of what Marshall deems as worry, her brow creased with a few wrinkles. She's taking the loss of Bernard quite hard, Marshall realizes. No matter how angry she gets at him, Marion loves Bernard just as much as the other boys. Taking him away is taking away a cornerstone in the family.

Asher Hancock makes a move to stand up before thinking better of it, his thick arms holding him back in his weathered seat. "Bernard's a good boy. He'll do well, although I don't know how he'll get past the girl from Nine. You might look at the other competitors, but I see something strong in her. She'll be hard to break, especially for Bernard. He's the youngest of the remaining competitors by three years, ain't he? If he gets a few sponsors and more help from his mentor, that Pollux, he'll do well enough."

The interviewer shakes her head, her eyes dancing with the prospect of telling them some good news after this nerve-wracking interview. "Actually, Ashira Marlstone has taken over mentoring Bernard after Pollux suffered from a stroke during the first day. She's currently working on helping to get him all the sponsors she can manage to draw in, the first time she's mentored tributes since the sixth Games."

Marion's face smooths into contentment, her shoulders relaxing. "It's good to hear that. If you're listening, Ms. Marlstone, thank you for helping my boy. I know that he will appreciate it."

Marshall nods, smoothing his hair and fidgeting with his thumbs. He can see Bernard working to build the boat that he had been trumpeting about a few days ago, the rafters finally taking the shape of a raft after his third rebuild.

The question isn't if Bernard appreciates Ashira's help, but whether he'll listen to her advice or not.

 **Interviews finished! And you know what that means… HIRAETH IS COMING YEEET**

 **Anyways, big bombshell with Ryker's death in the middle of the interviews. Kinda unfair to not give him that big of a spotlight for his death, I know, but it felt like the story would benefit the most from dying this way. Anyways, this is day eight finished, which means we're closer to the finale! Only six more deaths to go…**

 **8th: Ryker Underwood, District Seven Male; stabbed in heart by Marshall Fields. Created by GreyWolf44**

Ryker was fun to have in the Games, a strong and solid guy who'd protect his allies and be a big threat. And that he was, one that I think a few of us grew to enjoy. He had a kind personality that was always destined for an alliance, but Marshall's fever did something that may have just led him to believe that Ryker was a threat... :o I personally enjoyed his ride through the Games, although I felt placing him too high would feed the District Seven Male stereotype of always placing in the top five, so eighth he came. GreyWolf44, I hope you enjoyed Ryker's trip through the Games, and that you stick around to the end of Distorted! Ryker will be missed by a lot for his kind personality and his strength, and the fact that Marshall killed him may lead to some very interesting subplots…

 **KILL COUNT  
** (Italicized are deceased tributes)  
 _Taffeta Paisley, District One Female - 1 Kill  
_ Zora Stikander, District Two Female - 1 Kill  
 _Ajax Hollis, District Two Male - 1 Kill  
_ Keelan Spinnaker, District Four Male - 2 Kills  
Ashrifah Keyaut, District Five Female - 2 Kills  
 _Ryker Underwood, District Seven Male - 1 Kill  
_ _Paxton Webb, District Nine Male - 1 Kill  
_ Giovanna Fillinfini, District Nine Female - 1 Kill  
Marshall Furr, District Ten Male - 2 Kills  
 _Moon Kraków, District Twelve Female - 1 Kill  
_ Arena - 4 Kills

 **DISTRICT PLACEMENTS  
** District Two  
District Four  
District Five  
District Six  
District Seven  
District Nine  
District Ten  
District Twelve  
9th: District Three  
10th: District One  
11th: District Eleven  
12th: District Eight

 **Alliances**

Wait what: Ashrifah, Giovanna, Moon, Bernard, Keelan, Zora, Isa, Marshall

The Dead: Lincoln, Tony, Hollister, Nehemiah, Wyatt, Cornelia, Carol, Paxton, Pepper, Mira, Luxx, Monique, Aris, Taffeta, Shawn, Ajax, Moon, Ryker

 **We're in the final seven! See you next time for Day Nine, and be sure to check out Hiraeth when I publish it in the next days! I hope you guys enjoy the sequel to Distorted :3 Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	40. Day IX: In Cold Blood

**This is the part of the story where the povs from tributes stop being exactly around 1000 words. Let's get sporadic!**

 **Marshall Furr, 16, District Ten Male**

He realizes his mistake as soon as he stares down at the dead body of his ally.

When he sees Ryker choking on his own blood before the cannon goes off, he snaps out of whatever fever-induced dream he was supposed to be in. Now all he can see is red, dripping red blood, all over Ryker and on the sleeping bag that had curled up in the night before and the arrow in his side that Marshall had stabbed into his side and… and…

He vomits.

He doesn't linger for a minute longer, grabbing two backpacks before looking back to Ryker. He can already hear the helicraft whirring in the distance above the trees, but he can't help but say goodbye to his only ally left in the arena. "I'm sorry, Ryker."

He takes off through the woods, stumbling through the thorny thickets in his frantic journey towards wherever he's going now. His throat is still choked up due to the flu that he still has, and his head is pounding heavily from the frantic pace. He can almost feel his brain bouncing around in his skull, begging Marshall to stop and take a little break before he continues to move forward once more.

He collapses to the side of a fallen tree and strains to catch his breath, the hard taste of blood in the back of his throat making him retch once more onto the ground. He wipes his mouth and shakily takes a bottle of water, swishing it around in his mouth to rid the taste of blood before spewing it back into the ground. For the first time since he got that wretched flu, he feels clean once more.

But that still doesn't excuse the fact that he's killed his ally. Does he regret it? Yes, but he knows in the depths of his heart that he would have had to kill Ryker if one of them didn't die in a fight against another tribute. It was meant to happen, just not now. It shouldn't have been now.

He remembers that his parents would have started their interviews somewhere around this time, swarms of reporters crowding around the large house in an attempt to get all of the information on him. Ryker's family would have had the same event, trying to answer questions and accepting the bonuses that one got with their child making the final eight.

Poor Ryker's family will never get to have their interview.

A light chuckle comes from behind the fallen tree and Marshall stiffens in shock, fumbling around for an arrow for his quiver. Is it another tribute? A mutt, perhaps a cougar imitating a human as they searched for prey? He doesn't know, but he has to be ready.

Fixing an arrow onto the string and clenching tightly to the bow, Marshall rises from his hiding spot and faces whatever made that chuckle. "Don't move, or, or I'll shoot!"

Giovanna Fillinfini gasps and almost drops the bowl of water that she's carrying back to a newly constructed hut, taking small steps backwards towards the home that she's built. "Marsh - Marshall? Is that you?"

Marshall lowers the bow as he recognizes the girl who was supposed to be his ally if they weren't separated at the beginning of the Games, still keeping the arrow ready to fire. "It's me. Have you been here the whole time?"

Giovanna gives him a wary nod and points back to what seems to be a smashed hut, a gigantic branch atop of what must have been her former sanctuary. "Asides the move away from any widow-makers, I've been here the whole time. What's happened to you?"

Marshall grimaces and his arm flares in pain from the wound that Ashrifah had dealt him, finally placing the bow down onto the ground. "Ryker died last night, and I've spent the last day… just getting away from his body. I don't know exactly what happened… I think I blacked out along the way. I remember nothing except just running here." And that fact is true, he knows for some reason that it's already Day Nine even though he killed Ryker yesterday. Maybe his fevered brain didn't realize he killed his ally until today, or maybe he just collapsed in the middle of the forest last night, but he's made it from Day Eight to Nine in what felt like minutes. He remembers that he got something to help with the fever, what he thinks may have been a parachute, and the fact that he has an empty vial of what should be medicine in his hand helps to solidify the theory. Fevers are strange things.

Giovanna nods slowly and takes a step towards Marshall, reaching her hands out to help him up. "You know, now that you're here, we could keep each other company for the next night or two. It would be good to speak to someone after all of this time."

Marshall nods, solidifying the deal by shaking Giovanna's hand.

It's good to have an ally.

 **Bernard Hancock, 12, District Twelve Male**

For Panem's sake, it would be good to have an ally.

At least Bernard thinks so as he struggles to tie the last ropes around his raft, gritting his teeth and pulling as hard as his arms allow him to do so. It would be amazing to still have Shawn here with him, helping to tie this rope around the raft and critiquing it for further improvement. But Shawn's not here anymore. He's dead.

And Bernard's in the final seven.

It's surreal to know that he's in a position that not many tributes from Twelve have reached - only Ashira, Olive, Konnor, and Stephan come instantly to his mind. But all but Ashira died one way or another in the Games, leaving Twelve with the sullied reputation of having a bad track record in the Games.

But what with Moon cracking the top ten and Bernard still here, they might be able to drag Twelve's reputation up to the top.

The water is flowing calmly through the barn, some chickens calmly roosting on the bales on the other side of Bernard. He had tried to catch a few for meat and eggs yesterday, but the pesky little creatures could manage to get higher than he could. Even if he tried today, they'd still have the advantage of their little beaks pecking him. After all, he was trying to catch them alive. They didn't care if he was dead or alive, as long as he wasn't trying to slaughter them and their young.

He grins as he finally pulls the rope fully around the raft with enough slack for him to tie a knot, adding a little bow for the heck of it as he finishes up his raft. Standing up, he nods critically and pushes his little raft into the water. The fact that it's still above the water bodes well - his first couldn't even stay up like this without breaking to pieces because of his poor knots - and he slowly steps onto his boat. He doesn't want it to end up like the fourth - soaking him as he tried to take his first stroke.

But the boat stays afloat this time, the ropes holding tight and the board giving him enough of a surface to stand up comfortably. As he grabs the pole that he's using to ferry himself around the arena like in the books that his brother Marshall liked to read at home, he pushes it down to the ground and feels the surface of the barn floor. It's definitely long enough for him to make his way through the arena.

He takes a celebratory lap around the barn for his achievement and pushes back into the barn, putting the pole back into the hayloft and lugging his raft up to the safety of the loft. He doesn't want it to move while he's asleep.

He'll leave the barn as soon as he hears the cannon that marks the final four.

 **Zora Stikander, 16, District Two Female**

She'll move her way towards the cornucopia as soon as she hears the cannon that marks the final four.

She's been hiding in the fields, slowly recuperating from the horror of a hole that she had fallen into along with her former allies Keelan, Ajax and Taffeta.

What a pity that only one true career managed to crawl out of it.

She smirks as she sips her energy drink once more, the cold and refreshing liquid sliding down her throat. Her sponsor gifts have helped immensely in her recovery from the storm - she's already drunk the soup that she was sponsored yesterday, and she suddenly doesn't feel hungry anymore - and now she's ready to start fighting again. The turtle that had arrived before the food had been puzzling, but it had looked like the Bean that Ajax had shown her and Zora willingly played with it for a while before letting it swim out into the water. But she's been treated well, and now she's ready to fight. Even with only her sais and the large energy drink that she's been sponsored, she'll still be one of the top threats in the arena. Who's going to beat her? Keelan? Isa? No, she's stronger than everyone except for the girl from Five, but she'll come up with a plan for her eventually.

Ashrifah is her main rival for the victor's crown. She's been evading the careers since Day One, and she knows that the girl from Five was the murderer of Monique, killing her in such a way that almost made Ajax gag when they saw her body for the first time. Not Zora - she has a grudging respect for Ashrifah. The teenager is quite the fighter to take down a career in the bloodbath, let alone snatch another kill and manage to stay away from the angry careers for the next week. Yes, Ashrifah is smart. But if she comes to the feast and gets distracted by someone, something, _anything_ , Zora will take her chance and eliminate the greatest threat in the arena. After that, the Games will be hers for the winning.

She smiles and walks towards the water, keeping a wary eye out for the crows that are hovering above. She saw what had happened to Moon the other day; the crows had seemingly come down upon her without warning. Zora has to be silent and unassuming if she doesn't want to get attacked by them.

After all, the strongest tribute in the arena shouldn't be taken down by a pack of _birds_. That, that would be ironic.

She's been told that a group of crows is called a murder. Well, she'll be ready to murder them all if they turn on her. She's ready to fight _anything_.

 **Keelan Spinnaker, 17, District Four Male**

He doesn't want to fight anyone.

The Capitolites may believe that Keelan's ready to destroy the remaining six tributes, but he really only wants to continue to hide in this cornucopia. The rain has been falling quite sporadically, starting to clear the sky up and let some sunlight back into the arena. It's almost as if the Capitolites are trying to rescind their original idea of having another storm and replace it with flooding almost all of the arena. But it's working - he hasn't seen any tributes, but his vantage point from whenever he climbs to the top of the cornucopia proves that only a fourth of the original arena remains. In the distance, the barn is close to being completely flooded, only a few feet away from the waters reaching the roof, and he can barely see the tops of the trees at the end of the arena. The game makers are rapidly preparing for one big showdown.

But does Keelan really want to stay here for it?

If he can stay out of the next big fight, he has a very good chance of making it to the final five. From the looks of the arena, the game makers want blood soon, and they'll likely have some mutts chase tributes into a large fight before the finale. If he goes to the edge of the arena, where the river should be, he has a good - no, a great chance of staying out of that fight.

He's made up his mind. He's going to the edge of the arena now, and if his luck holds firm, he'll be in the final five in the next day or so.

He starts packing up what's left of the large food supply into his backpack, looking longingly at the vast stores tucked away into the cornucopia. If he leaves, he'll only be able to eat off of what is in his backpack - about four days worth of food. What remains would last a single person for weeks to come, as well as a vast range of weapons.

But he has to get away from it. He still hears those howls each night, and he can't shake the paranoid feeling that someone's about to come and kill him for the supplies like he threatened to do so to Isa. His mind won't let him stay in this sanctuary.

A voice suddenly comes down from the sky and Keelan looks up, blinking in surprise to hear the voice of the game maker Hiram Grisham. "Hello, remaining tributes, all seven of you. The last few days have been a bit stagnant, but we in the Control Room would like to fix that. All of you need a few things to keep on surviving in this arena, especially a solution for the worst symptom of those nasty injections you got at the beginning of the Games."

Keelan touches his eyes, remembering the panic that comes with each wave of darkness. It's been half a day since his last wave, but it's due to come in the next few hours. If the game makers have a solution for it, he needs to get his hands upon it - now.

"Now, now, don't get too worried. You'll have the chance to get these items tomorrow at nine in the evening. If you choose to go, you'll have access to some of the items you'll need to win these Games - or even survive for the next few days. I trust that all of you will take me up on my humble offer." The audio cuts out and Keelan stands still, gazing up at the sky in shock.

There's no way he's leaving the cornucopia now.

 **Giovanna Fillinfini, 18, District Nine Female**

There's no way that she's going to the cornucopia now.

"We have to go if we want to be cured of that damned blindness, Giovanna! Live a little!" Marshall argues, but she shakes her head tightly and looks away from her ally. She's not going to fight anyone in these games head on like that. There's still careers out there, for crying out loud! The remaining two are probably waiting for the rest of their adversaries at the cornucopia!

"You can go if you like, but I'll be staying here. There's only one way out of the cornucopia once you enter that hillside. Who's to say that no one will be waiting for you with a weapon as you attempt to run back out?" Giovanna looks towards her hut, keeping out the fact that she doesn't need to go to the feast, not after that blessed sponsored periscope. "You should stay."

"I can't. If I go, I can help get rid of some of the competition."

"Or die in the process."

"I won't, Giovanna. Stop being so down about this situation!"

Giovanna scoffs, shaking her head as she looks as Marshall. "Why shouldn't I be nervous about an event meant to draw us in and make us fight? I'm fine where I am."

"I have to get rid of this blindness. I've gotten rid of my fever from the past few days, and I have to get rid of my last problem. I have to go. For my district." Marshall looks down at a note in his hands and clenches his jaw, looking towards Giovanna in resignment. "If I live, I'll come back to let you know that I'm still around before leaving. There's no point in keeping up this agreement if there's only four of us left."

Giovanna nods, looking back at her hut in the falling dusk. "True. Then we'll be sticking together for the next day?"

"Agreed."

 **Isa James, 15, District Six Female**

She's not agreeing with any of the tips that Doug is sending her.

Her mentor sent a plethora of helpful little notes along with her newest sponsor gift - a warm blanket that she's been huddling in with her supplies - but she doesn't like any of his tips. He's telling her to get ready to go to the cornucopia, to fight for what is sure to be her one chance of curing those waves of blindness that come over her every so often.

But is the cure worth dying over?

She remains in her blanket and looks up at the sky in boredom, watching what would have been the huge storm slowly drift off into the horizon and the sun peek out from behind the receding wall of dark grey clouds. She doesn't care if she keeps going blind, she doesn't want to go to the cornucopia. Not when Keelan will be there. She is not going to fight him, especially after she ran from him after he appeared. He knows that she doesn't believe him, and that means she has no use for the career from Four. To Keelan, Isa is nothing but a piece in the Games that he has to get rid of.

She can't go, not when there are so many competitors that can snap her neck or slit her throat or do something to her that will guarantee her seventh place in the Games.

Almost as if it's punishing her for those thoughts, the darkness returns and she sighs in annoyance, burying herself in the large blanket in a half-hearted effort to hide from the arena. She hates going blind, and it seems to come at the worst possible moments. Maybe she _should_ go to the cornucopia. She can't keep being caught out in the open like this, perfectly vulnerable.

Is dying worth not going for the cure?

She groans as the blindness recedes, rubbing her eyes and grabbing her supplies. She'll move closer to the forest tonight, close to the waterline just in case those wolves decide to show their faces near the cornucopia. And tomorrow?

Tomorrow she'll be free from the blindness forever or die as a result.

 **Ashrifah Kayeut, 16, District Five Female**

Tomorrow, Ashrifah is going to guarantee her victory in the 16th annual Hunger Games.

She almost scoffs at how easy it will be to take what's her in the feast. No real competitors are left, except for the two careers and the girl from Six who is allied with the two of them, but the fact that there haven't been any hunts from that particular alliance suggests that something's happened to them. They've been too weakened to properly search for other tributes to kill, and she finally has the advantage in the arena. It's going to be a piece of cake to make her way to the cornucopia, take those cures, and smash the remaining ones once she gets herself cured of this blindness. If she gets rid of that, she'll have the upper hand over every tribute in the Games.

"Pfft, they'll never know what's coming to them," she mutters as she walks along the treeline, keeping a wary eye out for any tribute. One never knows where they might pop up.

When she leaves, she'll get there around eight. She has to be there early to properly get ready, and arriving just before nine will do her no good.

She'll have to target the careers, at least what is left of them. She can't have them in her way, especially if they are still together. She knows that they have a grudge against her, especially after she killed the girl from Four. Careers are funny that way - they'll willingly kill each other, but if one of them dies from enemy hands, they won't rest until they avenge their fallen friend's death. Pack of hypocrites, the lot of them.

She continues to walk along the treeline before starting to climb a tree, yawning slightly as she takes out the rope that was sponsored to her just after she attacked the boys from Seven and Ten. She'll be sleeping in the trees tonight, away from those wolves that howl throughout the woods. She doesn't want to die because of a pack of wolves.

Climbing up twenty feet, she can see the barn in the distance and the stars that shine beyond it. They're quite beautiful, but she pays them no mind. She has to fasten herself in tightly. After all, falling out of a tree won't help her win the Games.

Only bloodshed will.

 **Here I am again, with our scheduled Distorted update! And we've got a feast tomorrow, exciting! I'm planning to make it quite the event…**

 **What did you think of today? Quite quiet, but we had a new temporary alliance and povs from every character left in the Games. I rather think that the characters have been developed plenty throughout the Games, and I hope I'm handling them well :3 Did you guys like the chapter? What do you think will happen at the feast?**

 **Sponsor points (No point values, they haven't changed :p)**

 **Sponsor Points**

SilverflowerXRavenpaw= 30 Points

The Girl With The Knives= 200 Points

brooke2214= 35 Points

66samvr= 195 Points

GreyWolf44= 175 Points

Elim9= 115 Points

AmericanPI= 90 Points

TheBestGemini= 95 Points

HoshiNyanGirl= 40 Points

Yyvonee= 70 Points

Foxfaceisthebest= 55 Points

iridescenteverdeen= 120 Points

Kealimepie= 95 Points

District 9 Tribute= 80 Points

BladeIsMyPenname= 0 Points

BabyRue11= 45 Points

Sparky She-Demon= 55 Points

RoadieMcRoadface= 15 Points

Fanfiction Tribute= 15 Points

Ariel786= 15 Points

Kachhmir= 15 Points

Tubelancia= 40 Points

AnnaBanana= 45 Points

 **KILL COUNT**

(Italicized are deceased tributes)  
 _Taffeta Paisley, District One Female - 1 Kill  
_ Zora Stikander, District Two Female - 1 Kill  
 _Ajax Hollis, District Two Male - 1 Kill  
_ Keelan Spinnaker, District Four Male - 2 Kills  
Ashrifah Keyaut, District Five Female - 2 Kills  
 _Ryker Underwood, District Seven Male - 1 Kill  
_ _Paxton Webb, District Nine Male - 1 Kill  
_ Giovanna Fillinfini, District Nine Female - 1 Kill  
Marshall Furr, District Ten Male - 2 Kills  
 _Moon Kraków, District Twelve Female - 1 Kill  
_ Arena - 4 Kills

 **DISTRICT PLACEMENTS**

District Two  
District Four  
District Five  
District Six  
District Nine  
District Ten  
District Twelve  
8th: District Seven  
9th: District Three  
10th: District One  
11th: District Eleven  
12th: District Eight

 **Alliances**

Friends with (survival) benefits: Marshall, Giovanna

Definition of masculine relationships: Ashrifah, Bernard, Keelan, Zora, Isa

The Dead: Lincoln, Tony, Hollister, Nehemiah, Wyatt, Cornelia, Carol, Paxton, Pepper, Mira, Luxx, Monique, Aris, Taffeta, Shawn, Ajax, Moon, Ryker

 **Get ready for a big chapter tomorrow! Also, be sure to check out Hiraeth, which has just been published and is ready for more tributes! I've already gotten 32 tributes (but a lot are from before I published it so don't be soooo surprised), so I'm really excited for that cast :D For public information, I am closing the subs by the second prologue of Hiraeth, which will be published on November 30th! Make sure to remember that date while submitting tribs :D**

 **Only a few chapters till the end of the Games! Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ**


	41. Day X: Wolf Winter

**Zora Stikander, 16, District Two Female**

She yawns and stands back up, an uncomfortable wet feeling covering her entire back - is it… is she… is she somehow in the water that she's tried to stay out of her whole time in the arena?

 _Crap._

Zora curses and stands up in the water that's managed to soak her whole body. The waterline had crept up on her in the night, and now she's wet to the bone. She shouldn't have slept so close to the water, but her idiotic self had decided that it was a good idea to be an idiot today.

Not again. She can't mess up today. There's no way she can ruin her chances of getting the cure to this blindness.

Not today.

Tonight, she'll make her way to the cornucopia and free herself from the blindness that's come over every contestant ever since the Games began. She can't wait to get rid of it, no matter how many people she has to kill to do so. Once she does it, there will be nothing that can her stop her. After all, if she _breaks_ the other cures, she has the natural advantage. She'll leave around noon, and camp near the cornucopia until nine. After all, she has to be prepared. If she isn't, she'll waste of her years of training.

She watches the turtle that she had set out into the waterline after she had been sponsored it paddle around the side of the mainland blithely, splashing some droplets onto Zora's wet pants. She can't help but smile at the little creature, grinning as she steps out of the water. She had thought that she had gotten rid of the little turtle, but it had obviously decided that it was a good idea to stick close to her. She likes the turtle. It reminds her of Ajax. He was a good kid, although the fact that he couldn't react quickly enough to the Games was the reason that he was dead.

Although it was Keelan who killed him.

Her brow furrows in anger as she remembers her former ally, picturing his face when he saw that he had killed Ajax. She should have realized that he was going to abandon her from the beginning. He had never really fit in with the rest of the careers, he had always seemed to stand off to the side in that District Four fashion that she had taken for granted.

Or maybe he hadn't, but her bias against him is too strong for Zora to view Keelan as normal.

Because if Keelan's a normal guy, what does that make her?

 **Bernard Hancock, 12, District Twelve Male**

He's excited to finally get out of this barn.

Today, he's tried swimming in the water while moving around the barn on his raft. He's had a few misteps - he almost lost the pole when it hit a tree and fell into the water, and some of the knots tying the boards of the raft came loose while he moved around the barn, but he's finally proved that it's good enough for him to paddle all the way to the mainland. Soon he'll be moving to the mainland. Soon.

He just has to wait.

He doesn't want to stay in the barn much longer. The water's been slowly rising everyday, and it's only two feet away from the loft right now. The water has also been doing weird things, seeming to turn to darker colours and allowing more corpses of the herd of cows to float up to the surface from the bottom of the barn where they had been. He's been ignoring the corpses and preparing his ride to safety, slowly packing up everything that he figures he needs in the final four.

But will the final four come before this barn finally fills up and sends him into the waters for good?

He hopes so.

He yawns and remembers yesterday's announcement, reminding everyone that they'll get a chance to cure their blindness and other ailments. He had laughed at that one, climbing to the top of the roof and looking for a sign of the cornucopia from behind those thorn bushes. If he can barely see the thing from the top of the barn, there's no point in going into the circle to simply grab something that only affects him twice a day at most.

Even if it seems to be happening more often.

He looks towards the sun and sees that it's past noon, his stomach rumbling in hunger as he realizes the time. It's well into the afternoon by now, and he's completely forgotten to eat any sort of lunch.

Yeah, he better go do that while he still has the chance.

He grabs a chocolate bar and crams it into his mouth greedily, savouring the sweet taste of the food. He's lucky to still have supplies left, even if they're left over from another tribute with too many things in their hands. With any luck, he'll have enough to last him to the finale. And since he's limiting his meals now that the days are dragging out longer, he's more than certain that he has enough food. What he's been _really_ focusing on are the weapons. He's tried out throwing knives, using the bow and arrow that the previous tribute had left behind, but he can't help but stick with the sword that he had found in the hole. He's only gotten better than his time in the training centre, and he'd confidently be able to take on another tribute - well, if they aren't a career. He's nowhere near their skill level to challenge any of those tributes.

No, he'll stick with what he knows best. That's all he can do for now, only that and continue to move around on his raft. Maybe he'll go check out the trees near the barn later today. He might as well explore while he still has the chance, while he can still enjoy being in the arena and not worry about dying.

After all, it's only a matter of time until he's forced out of the barn.

 **Giovanna Fillinfini, 18, District Nine Female**

"And if you touch one another before those gifts from the Capitol appear, well, let's say that you'll be more than sorry. _So leave one another alone_. You've fought enough already in the last ten days, have you not?"

Giovanna agrees with the rich voice of Hiram Grisham before the announcement ends, causing Marshall to let out a deep sigh. He's not ready to go get ready to grab his cure just yet. He's argued with Giovanna about going and staying here in her hut, but he's eventually learned to let her be. But she hasn't stopped pestering him to stay.

She listens to the rustle of the leaves as evening begins to approach, Marshall pacing nervously around her hut. After the decision for Marshall to come back if he lived before leaving, she's been surprisingly calm about the whole matter. She won't have to risk her life. Marshall will, however, and the usually solemn teen seems to be falling apart at the seams. "Are you okay? You know you can stay here still. You don't have to kill yourself over some cure that might not even work in the first place. Do the right thing, Marshall. Live for your family, not for your sight."

"I can't," Marshall replies harshly, and Giovanna falls silent. "I have to do this tonight. I'm not losing because I went blind for a few moments and my opponent took the chance to cut my head off. I can't let my family down just like that. You wouldn't understand."

"I would so!" she retorts, her sky-blue eyes flashing with righteous anger. She pushes back her dark red hair and stares with contempt at Marshall, fingering locks of her auburn curls. "I'm doing everything to get back to my family. My dad's half dead - I'm sorry, but you're dying Dad, and my siblings can't handle themselves on their own. I've got to get back to them, it's the only way they can keep on living."

"They can still survive."

"What good is life if you only live through it to not die?"

"I guess you're right." Marshall blushes, which Giovanna can tell because he turns away and walks towards the fallen tree. "I shouldn't attack you just because I'm nervous."

Giovanna takes the compliment tersely, her shoulders relaxing. "I hope that if I don't, you make it back to see your family."

"Same."

They don't speak for the next hour. They're both thinking of home.

 **Keelan Spinnaker, 17, District Four Male**

All he can hope to do is forget home and get ready to fight.

He's hidden himself in the back of the cornucopia, waiting for the sponsor gifts to rise up from the ground so that he can take them and fend off the rest of the tributes. The others should be entering the circle of thickets just about now, trying to ignore the fact that they could be entering a death match. An hour ago, Hiram Grisham gave them the announcement that they weren't allowed to kill one another until the items appeared in the middle of the clearing. Well, that was just a better chance for him to get the jump on the rest of the tributes without worrying about if they'd kill him before he got his own cure.

He hears a rustling in the tunnel and watches the first tribute enter the hill of the cornucopia, her dark black hair and a faded eye easily noticed by Keelan. _Oh crap._

Zora is here to fight for the supplies.

He moves back into the shadows of the cornucopia as Zora moves to the other side of the hill, unable to be seen by Keelan from his position in the cornucopia. He only hopes that she isn't right next to the entrance of the cornucopia, right where she can stab him when he runs for the supplies.

Another tribute slowly enters the hillside, the boy from Ten this time. Funny, Keelan hasn't seen the boy at all since the bloodbath. But he knows the boy is strong, he's managed to get some high score in the private sessions that's escaped Keelan's mind at the moment. But it's not important now, because the boy has darted to the side of the hill to get out of the way of Ashrifah Kayeut, who enters with an angry gaze and a shiny, sharp knife in both of her hands.

It seems like all of the big names are here to fight for supplies.

No more tributes enter the hillside for the moment, and Keelan starts to breath even more quickly as he hears a countdown from ten. "Ten, Nine, Eight, Seven, Six..."

Only six seconds until they can cure themselves. He can see the moon in the distance. A blood moon.

"Three, Two, One."

No one moves for the supplies as they rise out of the ground, seven vials of clear fluids shining in the light of the moon. Keelan gasps in surprise at the food surrounding the vials, as well as several envelopes with the respective numbers of each tributes' district upon them. Likely some memoribilia from home to spur on the more starry-eyed tributes, stuff that Keelan neither needs or wants at the moment. All he wants is to survive this.

The tributes remain crouched in their positions as they watch the supplies, some animals rustling in the distance as they all look at the supplies. No one dares to move for the supplies. None of them want to be the target of the remaining three.

But before Keelan takes one last breath before sprinting to the serums, a flash of movement at the bottom of the hill catches his eye. A slip of a tribute darts up the hill with surprising speed, snatching up a vial before anyone else reacts and turning around as their long, dirty blonde hair catches Keelan's eye.

 _It's Isa._

 **Isa James, 15, District Six Female**

Her lungs scream for air as she grabs a vial and the envelope that bears a large black six on it before turning back towards the hill, a tiny grin forming on her face. Despite the fact that she was the last one to get there, she's still the first tribute to grab herself the cure.

She's still in the Games.

The girl from Five crashes into Isa before she has a chance to get to the bottom, but Isa squirms out of her reach and hisses in pain from a cut by the girl's knives as she tumbles down to the bottom of the hill. Before anyone has a chance to grab the vial, she gulps it down her throat and gasps in satisfaction. She's safe from the blindness. She's never going to have to worry about it again.

Once the others see that it's no use to take her serum, they start running for the table and trying to get their fill of the serum. Isa can see Keelan sprint out of the cornucopia and topple the table over as Zora emerges from the back of the hill, a wicked grin coming over her face. Everyone's managed to grab a vial. It's only a matter of time before they gulp them down and start slaughtering one another.

She turns to the tunnel and pauses, giving a massive shriek before stumbling away from the only exit into the arena in a broken sprint.

The pack of wolves have arrived to the cornucopia.

 **Marshall Furr, 16, District Ten Male**

He gulps down the serum and wipes at his mouth, turning to run down to the tunnel. But as he tears himself away from the rest of the tributes, he feels a sharp pain in his back. Ashrifah gives a wicked grin as she digs the knive deeper into his back, blood spurting out of the wound and down his shirt. "Not so fast, Ten."

"Get off of me!" Marshal punches the girl square in the nose, noting the sound of her nose breaking in satisfaction as he prepares to run back to the forest.

"Shit!" Ashrifah growls and pounces after Marshall, rolling awkwardly down the hill with him as she tries to stab in the side of the neck. Marshall just barely avoids her stabs, pushing her away from him as she runs back up the hill. "You're dead, Ten!"

"Not today."

"We'll see about that." She disappears from sight and Marshall shrugs, struggling up to his feet as he prepares to run. Who knows why she's done fighting?

As he turns around to run into the tunnel, he sees why she's not pursuing him.

The wolves pounce on him quickly, their sharp jaws tearing away at his flesh and ripping at his neck. He tries to stab him with the arrow in his quiver, but the dull points can only do so much against bloodthirsty canines, after all.

As he lapses into unconsciousness, he sees the tributes start to run out of the tunnel. The wolves had ignored them in order to get at Marshall.

He doesn't deserve to die like this.

Or maybe he does.

But as he lets go of his arrows, he remembers the look in his dad's eyes when he came back with the cattle from the fire.

Marshall dies with a strange feeling of pride.

And no matter how strange it is, that's all he could ask for.

 **Zora Stikander, 16, District Two Female**

The cannon booms as Zora stumbles through the tunnel with the vial clenched in her fists, not pausing to stop for an instant. She's getting away from the fight, even if she had a chance to kill the biggest two threats in the arena. She can't get found by those wolves.

The fields provide a place to hide and she stumbles into a small gully, crouching down and holding her sais in her hands. She watches for any wolves coming through the fields, their howls echoing throughout the arena before they stop. Perhaps they're starting their feast. She gulps down the vial before she continues to watch, tossing the glass container away. At least if she dies, it won't be because she goes blind.

She breathes in and out as she hears a helicraft come to collect Marshall's dead body, whirring away into the skies of the arena. It's dark enough that she can easily see the aircraft through the stalks of wheat, its bright lights shining in the night like the largest star in the sky.

A sudden noise causes Zora to whip around, and she sees a girl stumble and trip into the gully where she is. Zora stops and holds her sais out, noting that it's Isa who is collapsed in front of her. Another person to kill.

As Zora holds her sais to Isa's neck, the girl from Six pales and begs for mercy. "I haven't done anything to you! I'm just trying to get away from those wolves. Please, please let me go. It's all I ask."

Zora pauses, a sai drawing a small amount of blood. It drips down Isa's neck and the girl gasps, looking straight into Zora's eyes. "Keelan betrayed me too."

 **Isa James, 15, District Six Female**

"Keelan betrayed me too."

Her ploy for survival is crazy and stupid and based off of one belief, but Isa knows that the only reason Keelan lied like that was because he had done something to Zora. And she's right, Zora slowly letting the small weapons drop to the ground and waves Isa away. "Get out before I change my mind. Hurry up, now. I might kill you before you have a chance to get away, outlier."

Isa nods and stumbles away, running towards the east side of the arena. She's lucky, very lucky.

She shouldn't have survived that.

She wouldn't have thought the same a few days ago, but Panem blessed her by having Keelan chase her out of the cornucopia.

 **Ashrifah Kayeut, 16, District Five Female**

She runs back to the forest with the empty vial of serum, the cure already in her body and doing its special magic. No more waves of blindness, no more weakness, only good times from here on out! She can feel it, this year is her year to win the Games. She can't lose now that she's only one of four with the serum in her.

She smiles as she grabs the rope from where she left it, listening to the wolves howl in the night air. They don't scare her. Their howls fill her veins with excitement when she hears the sound. It means that they've found blood.

Only five left to go.

She walks into the woods and towards the waterline, looking for a suitable tree to sleep in for the night. She'll sleep easy this night, especially since she's in top form once more. She grabbed a bit of food from the table under the cornucopia, and now she has enough to last her for another day or two. She can sleep for now, and get ready to gather her wits about her for tomorrow. After all, the finale's bound to happen sometime or other, and the fact that only one died tonight means that the game makers will have to pull a few other tricks.

But Ashrifah will be ready. She's ready for anything.

She'll be damned if she isn't the sixteenth victor.

 **Quite the feast, methinks! Not quite the amount of deaths that one may have expected, but I believe that it was sufficient :3 Hope that you like the fact that I've updated twice in a row! (also pls review both chapters if you haven't done the previous one, me me loves reviews)**

 **What did you think of this new twist? We lost Marshall today, which is quite sad, but now we're moving quickly into Day Eleven! And Zora did something that none of us expected, but I think we're all secretly glad she did. We don't need** _ **that**_ **much death tonight, only one. One is enough.**

 **For now ;)**

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 **KILL COUNT**

(Italicized are deceased tributes)  
 _Taffeta Paisley, District One Female - 1 Kill  
_ Zora Stikander, District Two Female - 1 Kill  
 _Ajax Hollis, District Two Male - 1 Kill  
_ Keelan Spinnaker, District Four Male - 2 Kills  
Ashrifah Keyaut, District Five Female - 2 Kills  
 _Ryker Underwood, District Seven Male - 1 Kill  
_ _Paxton Webb, District Nine Male - 1 Kill  
_ Giovanna Fillinfini, District Nine Female - 1 Kill  
Marshall Furr, District Ten Male - 2 Kills  
 _Moon Kraków, District Twelve Female - 1 Kill  
_ Arena - 5 Kills

 **DISTRICT PLACEMENTS**

District Two  
District Four  
District Five  
District Six  
District Nine  
District Twelve  
7th: District Ten  
8th: District Seven  
9th: District Three  
10th: District One  
11th: District Eleven  
12th: District Eight

 **Alliances**

Friends with (survival) benefits: Marshall, Giovanna

Definition of masculine relationships: Ashrifah, Bernard, Keelan, Zora, Isa

The Dead: Lincoln, Tony, Hollister, Nehemiah, Wyatt, Cornelia, Carol, Paxton, Pepper, Mira, Luxx, Monique, Aris, Taffeta, Shawn, Ajax, Moon, Ryker

 **7th: Marshall Furr, District Ten Male; torn apart by wolves.**

I think we're all surprised that Marshall is dead. He was one of the front runners and one of the strongest tributes left in the arena, which made him quite the threat. I think the fact that he had stumbled into a new alliance with Giovanna led to most believing that he'd stick around a bit longer, at least to stir up conflict with Giovanna. But it wasn't meant to be, and Marshall ended up dying at the ancestors of his beloved dogs. Quite the fitting death, don't you think? I enjoyed Marshall for his strong personality and his willingness to fight, as well his calculated and guarded manner. He was one of the strongest guys in the Games, and seemed like he could easily be the victor. BladeIsMyPenname, thanks for a teen who helped balance out the power struggle between the boys and the girls, even if I wasn't the biggest fan of his name XD I hope you are satisfied with his arc, even if he placed a little lower than he could have!

 **Dang, the arena is really murdering them all now! I'm proud :P #arenaforvictor16 Also, I'm going to point out that sponsors will close by the next time I post a chapter. So for one more time, send in things for your children! They need it! (remember guests can review things to tributes if they have the points, just look back for the last time I posted item values ;D)**

 **Keep subbing to Hiraeth, which only has a week until submissions close! If you want in on my next SYOT, NOW IS THE TIME TO DO SO. Get to it! Until Day Eleven (we're so close to the end!) TheAmazingJAJ**


	42. Day XI: An Interlude

**Selena Arthtome, 27, Assistant Game Maker**

She needs a glass of iced tea _soon_ , or someone is going to lose their head tonight.

The eleventh day seems to be going smoothly for once, all of the final six moving around the arena with little mishap. Giovanna's still in her hut, a fort that the Capitol's grown to love and support throughout these Games, and the few attempts to force her to other areas has been greatly resisted by the Capitolites. They like the girl from Nine and her small routines, and the fact that she hasn't been doing much of anything is no excuse for the game makers to kill her off in their opinion. Keelan is one for staying in the same place as well, walking around the cornucopia and watching for other tributes. He doesn't seem like he's going to be leaving his position any time soon, but that's perfectly fine. His mentors will enjoy their easy ride throughout the Games during the past few days.

It's Zora and Isa who are exciting the Capitolites, coming dangerously close to one another every time they move around in the fields. People have been predicting that Ashrifah finds someone soon, but it's really either the girl from Two or Six who are going to end up finding another tribute. And after Day Ten's encounter between them, it'll be quite interesting to see how they react. Selena bets that Zora will be coming out on top if they meet. After all, Isa's no match for the career.

"What were the envelopes for again?" an intern asks Selena as they walk around with beverages, Selena snatching up a bottled ice tea and gulping it down thirstily.

"Oh, those were recordings of each of their interviews. Something to spur them all on, as they all had pretty nice interviews. It would have been a good idea for Giovanna to see her own tape - she would have had the greatest reaction - but the fact that both Ashrifah and Keelan get to watch theirs is good enough for me."

"I guess it is a success," agrees the intern. They move away from the game maker and towards another group huddled around the cameras, where Selena starts to walk towards. She doesn't like the fact that Hiram's talking to them. If Hiram's deemed it worrisome enough to poke his head into this issue, it's something big.

She better go figure out what it is.

She steps into the throng of nervous game makers and touches Hiram on the arm, looking at the cameras. "What is the thing that is so huge, so worrisome, that's gotten you back here when it's not your shift?"

Hiram looks at the screen nervously, scratching the beard that has formed over the past two weeks. What worries Selena is that he doesn't appear to be angry or even touchy, just apprehensive. She doesn't like this version of Hiram. "The water is starting to make its way back into the ground and flow out of the arena. We need more water to make sure that it remains at the same level and rises in time for the finale we have planned on the fourteenth day, after all. This is a bad thing to happen right now, Arthtome. We've got to fix it."

Selena inhales a sharp breath, watching the water lap gently against the wheat fields that it's risen up to. Over the last night and most of this day, it's been slowly rising towards the cornucopia. Bernard hasn't left the barn yet, but the waters will be high enough tomorrow to trap him and the raft inside the barn. He'll be leaving to dry land in the next twenty hours.

Unless the water goes back down.

"We have to find more water, then. Aren't we still siphoning out of the lake next to the arena? Isn't that the main source of water for it right now?" she asks Hiram, tapping her white and black painted nails on the clipboard that she holds every day. "Is it fully drained?"

"Almost. What's worse, the water will take a while to seep back into it after it leaves the arena. We can't recycle the water we lose in order to maintain water levels," sighs Hiram. "We may have to find an alternative."

"Then find one!" snaps Selena, two days of minimal amounts of caffeine pushing her to lose her temper. "And while you're at it, find a way to equip the wolf mutts for the waters. They'll still be needed for the finale."

Hiram smirks, the smile causing Selena to sigh in relief. "I will, don't you worry your pretty little head about that. I know just the thing for those little mutts to become waterproof."

 **Eleventh day is an interlude! I'm both evil and a genius!**

 **Anyways, I do not care if this is short, the next few chapters will be longer, don't worry you long chapter freaks XD I'm excited to get closer to the finale, as we're certainly getting closer to it with every day! Predictions for victor?**

 **No deaths today, so don't worry your pretty little heads about that :P Also, sponsor gifts are officially closed! *cheers because I hated keeping track of it and am very lazy* A few of you got a few last items to their babies, but most will have to watch their children struggle through the arena until the finale. I'm excited!**

 **KILL COUNT**

(Italicized are deceased tributes)  
 _Taffeta Paisley, District One Female - 1 Kill  
_ Zora Stikander, District Two Female - 1 Kill  
 _Ajax Hollis, District Two Male - 1 Kill  
_ Keelan Spinnaker, District Four Male - 2 Kills  
Ashrifah Keyaut, District Five Female - 2 Kills  
 _Ryker Underwood, District Seven Male - 1 Kill  
_ _Paxton Webb, District Nine Male - 1 Kill  
_ Giovanna Fillinfini, District Nine Female - 1 Kill  
Marshall Furr, District Ten Male - 2 Kills  
 _Moon Kraków, District Twelve Female - 1 Kill  
_ Arena - 5 Kills

 **DISTRICT PLACEMENTS**

District Two  
District Four  
District Five  
District Six  
District Nine  
District Twelve  
7th: District Ten  
8th: District Seven  
9th: District Three  
10th: District One  
11th: District Eleven  
12th: District Eight

 **Alliances**

lol we're hungry: Ashrifah, Bernard, Keelan, Zora, Isa, Giovanna

The Dead: Lincoln, Tony, Hollister, Nehemiah, Wyatt, Cornelia, Carol, Paxton, Pepper, Mira, Luxx, Monique, Aris, Taffeta, Shawn, Ajax, Moon, Ryker

 **Anyways, Day Eleven! I think this is a pretty long story so far, or at least a longer time in the arena. Hope you're okay with that! I'm working quickly on Day Twelve's chapter, so hopefully I can finish it soon. If I'm lucky, I could finish it on Monday! Until then, TheAmazingJAJ**


	43. Finale: And Then There Were None

**Bernard Hancock, 12, District Twelve Male**

He starts to paddle out of the barn for the last time, crouching to make it under the tall door of the barn. The water has been rising all day, and now he has to get out before he gets swamped in the water or trapped in the barn. He'll miss being in this place, it was quite relieving to just lie in the stacks of hay and forget about the arena for a while. It was peaceful. It reminds him of being at home.

If he had the choice, he would end up just staying here in the barn for as long as he could. No tributes to attack him, no mutts or weird things that the game makers could use to kill him, and enough supplies for him to build, to experiment, to _have fun_. This is where he was at his finest, not in the middle of the woods or in the fields. He was best when he could build things and have pure fun, or at least try to do so.

But now he has to get moving towards the cornucopia, or die trying to make it there. After all, the floodwaters wait for no one. If he waited any longer, he could easily be the next tribute to die.

As he moves out of what used to be the barnyard and what should be the flooded fields, he grins and splashes into the deep water. The water has been warmed by the steady days of sun, but it's still cold enough to make Bernard cry out in surprise before diving underneath the water, opening his eyes to keep an eye on his goal. Maybe he can reach the bottom of the arena if he holds his breath for long enough…

His lungs seem to beg to air as he pushes himself to the bottom, sodden stalks of wheat trickling his arms as he sees the wheat field underneath this water with half-shut eyes. But by now his lungs are screaming and he quickly pushes back up the surface, shaking his head and panting deep, quick breaths as he breaks the surface of the water.

It's nice to be in warm waters and swimming, even if the water is the thing that's forced him out of the barn.

He clambers back onto the raft and grabs the pole floating in the water, making sure that it doesn't snap as he raises it up before stabbing it back down into the water. It flounders, then hits the bottom of the arena, a sign that it's ready to push him to safety. He's ready to go.

He laughs as the pole pushes him towards the mainland, the cornucopia glistening in the sunlight beyond the waters. He's going to get there soon enough, hopefully in the next few hours if his arms hold up, and his supplies will help him last through the next couple of days. If worst came to worst, he could spend the next day out on the water.

After all, what could possibly go wrong out here?

 **Ashrifah Kayeut, 16, District Five Female**

She wakes up in the tree and gives a cry of pain as she feels a crick in her neck, slowly turning her head back and forth to release the tension spots. "Ouch!"

But the tension releases and she climbs down from the tree, her hair mussed up from the long night. It's at its worst right now, sticking up and out in all of the places that it shouldn't. She hates the look of it.

It's time for her to finally get clean. She needs a bath. It's been a long night once more, and the adrenaline from the feast is still running throughout her veins. She's _dying_ for a hunt.

But first, she has to clean herself up.

She laughs as she walks towards the water, her hair shining with the light hitting the grease that's so evidently coating it. Oh, what she wouldn't give for an actual shower with soap today! But taking a swim is the next best thing to that, so she'll let herself bathe in the waters of the arena. She'll make do with what she has.

Maybe her hair will actually start acting like hair once she lets it soak in the water, instead of sticking up like spikes and generally making a mess out of itself. She doesn't know for sure, but she suspects that there are a few leaves trapped inside the long strands of hair. She can feel them when she tries to fall asleep each night.

She takes a step into the water and gives a cry of satisfaction, dropping to her knees in the warm water. It feels strange, perhaps from all of the wheat and dust that was turning it darker than it should be, but it's at the perfect temperature for her to soak in. It's almost as if the game makers _want_ tributes to swim in the water, to enjoy this luxury before they have to fight again. Maybe it's because the designers of their uniforms made them waterproof and wanted to show it to the world, or maybe it's because it's just a nice day, but she'll grab this opportunity by the horns.

She sinks deeper into the water and gives a cry of satisfaction,

It feels nice to not feel like an animal again. At this rate, all of the dirt clogging unreachable spots on her body will float away into the waters, and she can be clean once more, ready to kill.

But for now, she just wants to relax.

 **Giovanna Fillinfini, 18, District Nine Female**

She looks down at the note with a strange glint in her eyes, crumpling it up and tossing it into her hut. But even when she shuts her eyes, all she can see are those six words.

 _Leave now while you can. Falcon._

But why would she have to leave? She's spent close to two weeks here in the hut, blithely building little shelves and making her meals from traps that she set up around the campground. It's been perfect to be here, like she's settling a strange new territory that no one's ever been to before.

Perhaps the same tribute that got Marshall will get her if she doesn't leave soon. She knows that her former ally is dead - the anthem and his face in the sky last night proved that fact - and she doesn't want to die because she didn't listen to Falcon. After all, her mentor has spent well over a decade learning the tricks that the game makers pull. He knows better.

She'll leave now.

She spends a brief moment inside of her hut, briefly thanking it for the nights that she had spent inside of it. It's grown to be her home away from home, and she can't really imagine the rest of the Games without it. She's grown so used to waking up in here, to waking up in solitude…

But the game makers don't like stagnancy. They want her to move now, and move she shall. She picks up a few knives and her spear before crawling out of the fort, shrugging on the backpack that she had collected so long ago at the cornucopia. She won't disappoint them.

She starts to walk through the forest and towards the fields, blinking at the change in light. It's always been quite dark in these woods, but her eyes had rapidly adjusted to the lack of light in a matter of hours. Now that she's moving back into the light, her eyes are almost burning from the sunlight. "Wow, pretty bright out here."

A sparrow scolds Giovanna for speaking as it flies back into the forest, their wings disappearing into the branches of the thick trees. Giovanna shrugs and steps out into the fields, walking alongside the thorn bushes towards the cornucopia.

She'll find a place to hide soon. After all, nothing else is going to happen today. Isn't that breeze from the water refreshing?

 **Isa James, 15, District Six Female**

She continues to move throughout the field and wander aimlessly, her knives clenched tightly in her hands along with the axe and first aid kit that she had been sponsored yesterday. Thank Panem that she has a new weapon other than the knives; she can't keep stumbling around the arena with only a pair of knives against tributes with s _words_ , for crying out loud! No, she's glad that she has the sponsor gift. It's impressive to see that she's gotten this that late in the Games. It's usually very expensive to sponsor tributes weapons, let alone later on when prices were raised and people weren't so adament on every tribute. She's very lucky.

Now, all she has to do is use is correctly and hope she doesn't stab herself instead when she finds another tribute to find with.

She's been sticking close to the edge of the arena ever since she had encountered Zora, scared to go close to the girl. After all, she had been very clearly warned not to cross the girl from Two once more. Thank Panem that Keelan had betrayed Zora, or Isa would be dead in her grave right now. But she's not dead, not dead yet at least, and she has to focus on surviving the next few days. She's not going to slip up now, not in the final six.

She hopes that her parents and sister are watching right now. Would they be proud of her for making it this far? Would her mother be upset that Isa has to go through this? Panem forbid, would her fa _ther_ be nervous for her?

She hopes so, even though it's likely a pipe dream. Only her sister would really care about getting back home, her parents only seemed to care about money and status. And after eleven days in the arena, Isa's found more than that. She's found happiness and panic, fear and anger, joy and contentment in the simple things. If she makes it back home, she won't be the same girl that she was. She won't chase after boys just to impress the authorities anymore.

She'll be different.

She moves towards the tunnel leading to the cornucopia for a reason she can't explain. Maybe there's a hole or crevice in the thorns in which she can hide, but she feels the need to check it out. Eh, she might as well try. If worst comes to worst, she can bolt back to where the river was and hide there if Keelan comes out.

 **Bernard Hancock, 12, District Twelve Male**

He paddles the raft blithely to the edge of the water, grinning as he finally steps onto dry land. It's been too long since he's been able to stand on top of something other than the raft that he has piloted all the way here. He's taken _hours_ to muster enough strength to get this far. But now he's here, and he's got to find a place to hide. After all, making it here will do nothing if he doesn't stay away from the other tributes.

He pauses to grab his sword and leaps off of the raft, looking back to see the food still on the raft. He's dropped the pole a minute ago when he finally reached the edge of the waterline, and the force of his jump has sent the raft away from his reach. If he wants to keep his food, he'll have to get back into the water - which seems to be rising every minute. And he doesn't want to go back into the water now that he's gotten dry and warm once more. It isn't worth it. It simply isn't

He turns around and walks towards the edge of the arena, looking for a place to crouch down until the next cannon. He doesn't need that food.

He'll thank his lucky stars later on that he didn't pause to grab his food.

 **Keelan Spinnaker, 17, District Four Male**

He stirs the fire that he's started absentmindedly, fingering his spear and pouring some more of the kerosene into the flames. He doesn't know why, but he's cold right now, so very cold. Maybe a cold is coming over him, or maybe it's a result of the cure that he got on the tenth day, but all he wants to do is go to sleep once more and wait for another day to come. He doesn't want anything to happen today.

But fate is cruel, and movement at the bottom of the hill causes him to peer downwards.

Crap.

It's Zora.

She obviously doesn't notice Keelan up here yet, looking around the hill for other tributes before she starts climbing upwards, keeping her eyes on the ground for some infernal reason. Perhaps she believes that he hadn't come back after the feat, or maybe she needs something from the cornucopia, but she's so distracted by other things that she almost walks right into him - at least, she would have if he hadn't thrown his spear.

Zora leaps out of the way of the weapon as Keelan yells at her, her eyes sharpening in anger and her fingers clenching around her sais. But before she has a chance to climb up the hill and attack him, Keelan snatches up a long piece of wood, pours the entire kerosene bottle on it before sticking it in the flames. It's an instant torch, and he charges towards Zora with a scream.

The girl runs, not so much out of fear as of instinct, and Keelan follows her with wild eyes. He doesn't know why, but it's _good_ to be in control like this. He loves the rush in his veins, the excitement of playing with death, his chances of killing his greatest enemy in the arena. He loves everything about playing this Game. And he could win. He could kill Zora.

 _This is what he volunteered for._

 **Zora Stikander, 16, District Two Female**

She runs towards the water with a shriek, hands around her weapons and pumping furiously through the air. She's not getting caught by Keelan. She doesn't want to test how flammable her uniform is.

She pauses at the edge of the water and glares at Keelan, who smirks at her and bares his flame in the air. "End of the line for you, isn't it?"

"Not yet, adrenaline nut."

"You're at the end of your grand adventure. No one to save you now, Zora. I can drown you easily." Keelan laughs, his eyes wild in the flames. She doesn't like the wild look in his eyes.

"So after you tried to kill me by drowning, now it's by fire? Wrong move, Keelan, I can dodge that easily. What you _should_ be worried about are my sais. Still sharp, and a stick of embers won't stop them from killing you."

"I'd be surprised if you can best me, Zora. It's time to die. I'm looking forward to entering the final five."

Keelan throws the torch and Zora dodges, hearing it splash into the water. But instead of what should have been a sizzle, a massive roar comes from the water and she's hit by a wall of flame. She collapses onto the ground, watching Keelan scream as his face is browned to a crisp.

She crawls towards him, watching the look in his eyes as he tries to fight the flames. But he starts to slow, and soon he droops his eyes shut. But she manages to whisper to him before his and another cannon goes off, her voice rich and sweet with joy with the fact that she's beaten him at last.

"If we go down, then we go down together."

They'll say that she was clever.

 **Isa James, 15, District Six Female**

She screams at the explosion and rushes towards the cornucopia, hearing the first cannon boom before fading into the air.

That's one.

She's in the final five.

By the time she reaches the top of the hill, another cannon fires through the air. And the flames are only getting worse.

 **Ashrifah Kayeut, 16, District Five Female**

She doesn't feel the flames come until it's too late.

As the flames that travelled across the waters and towards Ashrifah sear her uniform and meld it with her melting skin, she gives a scream and tries to douse herself off in the water beneath the flames. But the flames are unrelenting, and she soon has to take a breath above the waters. Her hair catches on fire and causes a ring of fire to circle around Ashrifah as she claws herself out of the water, a creature of flame.

She tries to move away from the water, but the dry wheat has already caught on fire.

A cannon booms while she fights for her life, but she doesn't hear it. She's trapped, and her legs are too burnt for her to move any further. She's going to die here, completely helpless. She can do nothing to stop it.

No, there's still one thing she can do. She can still scream.

 **Bernard Hancock, 12, District Twelve Male**

Three cannons boom throughout the air, all at different rates. The last one comes a few moments after the first two, almost letting one last gasp of defiance come out from the dead tribute. Bernard shrieks at the flames leaping through the air and ducks, his heart racing faster than a horse. Panem, that could have been _him_ if he had stayed to get his food.

Then he realizes the elephant in the room: Bernard Hancock is in the final three.

The final three!

By now the flames are too intense for him to stand in place any longer, so he flees towards the cornucopia with a scream and tries to hold his breath. The smoke filling the air is overwhelming, and he can only try to keep as much of it out as he can. Too much smoke in his lungs, and he'll be the next to die.

And he's not dying. Not today. Not when he's so close to victory.

He runs.

 **Giovanna Fillinfini, 18, District Nine Female**

She watches a wall of flame come up from the water, and she gasps in horror before turning to run for the cornucopia. From the sound of those cannons, it's time for her to make it to the cornucopia.

The finale has begun.

She sprints through the fields and screams as a wall of fire rapidly races with her to the tunnel, Giovanna narrowly dodging into the wall of thorns and kicking away sticks in her mission to get to the top of the cornucopia.

And then she hears howling.

Behind her are the wolves that have been pawing around the forest each night, but instead of what they looked like in books and when hunters in Nine killed them in the fields, they are covered with flame and none the worse for it. Oh Panem, the wolves are fireproof.

She runs even faster, stumbling up the hill in her efforts to get to the cornucopia. She can see a smaller boy at the top of the hill, sprinting to get to the finale.

Funny that Bernard Hancock, the youngest tribute in the Games, is one of the final three.

And if he's one of the finalists, who is the other?

 **Bernard Hancock, 12, District Twelve Male**

Who is the other finalist in these Games?

He can see the girl from Nine rushing up the slope to make it to the cornucopia, the flames licking at her heels as they spill onto the hillside, but he can't see the other finalist for the life of him. Maybe they're trapped in the woods by the fire somehow, doomed to be roasted alive by the wildfire. Eh, as long as they don't show up while he's trying to get to the top of the cornucopia. That's all that matters now, getting to the top of the cornucopia intact. And that's all Bernard will focus on.]

He jumps over a roaring fire that had been set by someone, likely a career who had set up camp in the cornucopia, and grabs a box to stack it on top of more. He quickly has a stack of three boxes and climbs on top of them, using his stack to get to the top of the cornucopia.

He climbs inch by inch, not paying attention to the fire below him or whatever may be above. His parents have always warned him against tunnel vision, but it's _working_! He's almost at the top!

A sharp pain cuts through his fingers and Bernard yelps before seeing blood gush out of them, one of them dropping into the inferno. Panem help him.

He gazes upwards, up into the panicked eyes of the girl from Six. With a small nod, she pushes him into the flames, where he feels a sharp pain in his back before baying of the wolves - wait, why are they here? - ring in his ears.

So _that's_ who the other finalist is.

 **Giovanna Fillinfini, 18, District Twelve Female**

She gasps as the fourth cannon rings through the air, the body of the boy from Twelve currently being attacked by the wolves. But they seem to back off once they're certain that he is finished, a little clearing coming around the battered body in order to keep him preserved for a funeral.

The Capitol does have a soul after all.

But she can't focus on that now. She's just made it to the top of the cornucopia, and she makes it before the other contestant has a chance to push her off. Giovanna muscles her way up and stands up with her spear, nodding to the girl from Six with her axe. "Good luck."

The girl pauses, looking Giovanna square in the eyes. Panic is evident on her face, but she manages to return Giovanna's comment. "You too."

Then she charges at Giovanna, her axe soaring through the air and towards Giovanna's face. She just barely misses, Giovanna ducking and scrambling to another part of the cornucopia. She gets back up when she comes close to the edge, squaring her feet and preparing her spear. She jabs it threateningly towards the girl from Six, keeping the girl at bay with the threat of being stabbed in the stomach. She can still win. She can still win.

All she has to do is get rid of this last competitor.

 **Isa James, 15, District Six Female**

She can still win.

But looking at the girl from Nine, Isa isn't so sure that she can.

She shakes her head angrily, jabbing with her axe towards the girl from Nine in an attempt to move her away from her position. But the teen holds solidly to her own ground, cutting Isa on the arm with a well-placed stab. Isa hisses and clutches her arm in anger, spitting towards the girl. "I'm not done yet."

"We'll see about that." The girl launches the spear towards Isa, grabbing it back just before it races through the air and into Isa's heart. She still isn't ready to let her weapon go, even with the chance she just had to end Isa. She's not willing to lose her advantage of having the weapon with longer range.

Isa smiles, weaving with Giovanna's spear and managing to duck long enough to grab her knife from the roof of the cornucopia. She tosses it at the girl and she flinches, allowing Isa to swoop in and nick her on the leg before jumping back to safety. Never mind that the knife missed completely, it was more than enough to distract the girl from defending herself from Isa.

And just like that, Isa has her plan for victory.

 **Giovanna Fillinfini, 18, District Nine Female**

Giovanna growls and clutches the wound on her knee, holding the spear out towards her opponent while she quickly surveys the damage. It's quite bloody but only a surface wound and she writes it off as nothing for now. It's not a killing blow or even one that could slow Giovanna for long, and she grins in relief as she advances towards the girl from Six. She's not dead yet, and Giovanna won't stop until she causes the last cannon to be fired.

She's going to be the victor of the Hunger Games, come hell or high water.

Giovanna stabs the spear towards the girl but she dodges, causing Giovanna to curse in anger. "Hurry up and get _injured_ already!"

The girl smirks, fending off the spear with her axe. "Getting tired, Nine? You need a little break? Because you aren't getting one."

"You aren't either." Giovanna can see the sheen of sweat on Six's brow, she's just as tired as Giovanna is. She just has to keep attacking, keep fending off the girl until she has a chance to end her, and then kick her corpse to the wolves.

That's her plan for victory.

She continues to stab towards the girl from Six with faster and quicker blows, confidently pushing the girl away from her until she's close to the edge. But the girl is smart, and she scrambles back into the middle while sneering at Giovanna. "That's all you got?"

Giovanna shouts in rage, prepared to let her spear fly into the girl's abdomen. But she's stopped by one thing.

The girl has grabbed the shaft of the spear.

 **Isa James, 15, District Six Female**

She holds firm to the shaft of the girl from Nine's spear, her heart racing as she stares at her opponent dead in the eyes. Isa has the control now. She can win.

She can win.

But the girl is quick, throwing herself at Isa and tumbling towards the edge of the cornucopia. There they battle over the spear, the girl from Nine battering Isa with the shaft and cutting her forehead with the tip of the spear. They wrestle for the spear above the roaring flames and the baying of the wolves below, snarling at one another with bated teeth.

A shower of roses and confetti comes from above and catches flame due to the heat, causing the girl from Nine to pause and look up at the strange phenomenon. Isa uses the distraction to knee the girl in the ribs, causing her to curl up into a ball and heave for air.

 **Giovanna Fillinfini, 18, District Nine Female**

She heaves for air and glances up at the girl from Six, raising her hand up slowly in surrender. "Oh Panem, I'm dead. I'm sorry, Dad."

The girl's eyes flash in what might be sorrow before stabbing the spear into Giovanna's side, a rush of pain running through Giovanna before the girl takes a knife and slits Giovanna's throat. It's kind, really, to let her body fall into the flames before the wolves boom. She doesn't feel the teeth of the wolves, the heat of the fire, or hear the sound of the helicraft come to pick up the sixteenth victor.

She smiles before she closes her eyes one last time, her teeth shining in the light.

She fought to the very end.

 **Betcha you didn't think this was gonna be the finale until you saw the chapter title XDD**

 **And that's a wrap to the arena! I'm glad that we managed to make it this far - I was scared that something would come up beforehand and wreck my chances of making it this far, but we did it! I'm so proud, guys!**

 **What did you think of that finale? I'm very proud of the deaths and all, and hope you were thoroughly surprised by what happened! (maybe enough to nominate this story for something in the SYOT Awards cough cough XD) Anyways, we all want the eulogies now, so here we GOOOOO!**

 **6th: Keelan Spinnaker, District Four Male. Killed by explosion.**

Keelan was a good guy, an adrenaline junkie and a loyal career to the very end. He was always trying to keep himself alive and his form specified that he leave the alliance early if anything came up, so that was the birth of the hole arc. I think that Zora was pretty happy to beat him in the end, even if it wasn't quite the death we all expected ;) I'm very proud of how I turned what seemed to be a watery arena to a fiery finale, and the root of that will be revealed in an epilogue. Thanks to Elim9 for a great tribute, and I hope you enjoyed his wild ride to his placement, including being the person who started the fire!

 **5th: Ashrifah Kayeut, District Five Female. Killed by explosion.**

Let's face it, no one really liked Ashrifah. But that's who she was supposed to be - a grand antagonist who was willing to rip other tributes limb from limb and stir up fights. She was originally destined to die off int he bloodbath, but I decided against it after a last day change that sent her - very surprisingly - all the way to the final five! Her ferocious spirit and her pride was a large factor of her personality, but I don't think any of us expected her to win, so her bath in the waters was what ended her run for victory. Kealimepie, I hope you enjoyed your girl's run to the final five if you're still here!

 **4th: Zora Stikander, District Two Female. Killed by explosion.**

Zora was one of the more plot driving tributes in this story, emerging as the leader of the careers before turning into a wild tribute ready to slaughter Keelan as soon as she could. She had several iconic moments, especially her insane escape out of the hole, and I really enjoyed writing her to the very end. Her blind eye and more pacifist side couldn't be very shown in this story, something that I could have executed better, but I think the rest of her personality was very well represented. Thanks to brooke1214 for a character that I loved a lot, and I hope you're satisfied with the fact that she beat Keelan!

 **3rd: Bernard Hancock, District Twelve Male. Killed by Isa James.**

Bernard wasn't supposed to make it this far until I started writing him in the arena. After that, I knew for sure he was going to the final three, whether we all wanted him to or not. Something about his wild, free, exciting personality really made me fall in love with writing him, and he was one of the most realistic twelve-year-olds I had ever seen in an SYOT. As you can tell, I had quite the soft spot for him, so he stumbled into the rebel alliance before surviving the storm and playing safe in the barn until the final six. But a preteen was not destined to win in my canon universe, so Bernard said goodbye at third place. Thanks so much, Elim9, for one of my favs in the arena, and I hope you're happy with a new placement! (I checked your profile and you don't have a third yet, so happy birthday XP)

 **2nd: Giovanna Fillinfini, District Nine Female. Killed by Isa James.**

Giovanna was going to win until after the bloodbath, where I decided that Isa was going to be my pick for victor. Her personality was just _made_ to be a victor, with her calm demeanour, her stressed home life, her volunteering at the school, and all of the other factors that made her so refreshing and interesting. But I decided that I would rather have the anti-hero (because that's really what Isa is) win this Games, and prove that I love my villains. Giovanna was a great character, however, and her wise choices helped her stay in one spot for almost all of the Games - other than the move to five feet away from her original spot XD Thanks to District 9 Tribute for the runner-up, and if you're still here, I hope you aren't too upset!

 **Victor: Isa James, District Five Female. Two Kills.**

Ummm, a round of APPLAUSE FOR OUR VICTOR? Seriously though, I love writing Isa and found her to be one of my favourite characters in the Games. Something about her made me fall in love with her disaster personality and backstory - something that begged for a redemption arc. So I made her a leetle more likeable, gave her a career alliance which she was trying to get into in the first place, and it all fell into place! Her stubbornness and cunning allowed her to kill Bernard before he had a chance and fend off Giovanna, in one of my favourite finales that I've written. Thanks to 66samvr for our victor, and congrats to you! Go celebrate with a review that I would like ;))) XD

 **KILL COUNT**

 **Keelan's gonna claim all the explosion kills cause he rocks :P sorry not sorry**

(Italicized are deceased tributes)  
 _Taffeta Paisley, District One Female - 1 Kill  
Zora_Stikander _, District Two Female - 1 Kill_  
 _Ajax Hollis, District Two Male - 1 Kill  
Keelan Spinnaker, District Four Male - 5 Kills_  
Ashrifah Keyaut, District Five Female - 2 Kills  
 _Ryker Underwood, District Seven Male - 1 Kill  
_ _Paxton Webb, District Nine Male - 1 Kill  
_ Giovanna Fillinfini, District Nine Female - 1 Kill  
Marshall Furr, District Ten Male - 2 Kills  
 _Moon Kraków, District Twelve Female - 1 Kill  
_ Arena - 5 Kills

 **DISTRICT PLACEMENTS**

1st: District Six  
2nd: District Nine

3rd: District Twelve

4th: District Two

5th: District Five

6th: District Four

7th: District Ten  
8th: District Seven  
9th: District Three  
10th: District One  
11th: District Eleven  
12th: District Eight

 **And that is that for the arena! Only an epilogue or two to go, and we can mark this story complete! Thanks to all of the submitters for their sacrifices, and I hope you all liked this chapter! (Silver if you aren't satisfied with your confetti and roses I will scream) Until the next chapter (possibly the last) TheAmazingJAJ**


	44. Curtain

**Isa James, 15, District Six, Victor of the Sixteenth Hunger Games**

She blinks once, then twice as she opens her eyes to see the bright light right above her. She swears and turns towards the side, where she spots her mentor peacefully sleeping upright in a red leather chair.

Oh, Panem.

Panem above, she's won the Hunger Games.

Slowly, gingerly, Isa lifts herself out of the bed and feels for any broken bones before she sighs in relief. She spots bald patches on her hair in a mirror as she starts to walk out of the room, but she pays them no mind. They're a small price for her survival in these Games.

She'll never have to fight again.

She notes that where the Capitolites could, they changed her body. Her cheekbones are more narrowed and her eyes seem… _larger_ , with brighter and flashier colours of light blue and gold. Her body seems more muscular and defined as well, and looking down, she sees the Capitolites have taken every liberty they could with her body.

She's not sure if she likes it. For better or for worse, her body, one that she heard her parents describe as "homely" and "unappealing", is now the body of a young woman. She looks like what a victor is supposed to look like - strong and beautiful.

But she's not Isa anymore. She's Capitol Isa.

She's what her parents wanted her to be.

Doug stirs and widens his eyes when he sees Isa walk towards the door, quickly standing up and giving her an impulsive hug. "You're awake!"

Isa bites back a sarcastic response and lets herself smile, warmth coming to her cheeks as Doug squeezes her. "I am, I guess. Has it been long?"

"No, it's only been two days. You should have been awake yesterday, but the doctors found a bit of a mishap in removing your tracker and spent a bit more time. You'll have to recover a bit, but you'll be one of the faster recoveries. Last year, Tomas spent two weeks in the hospital! And I spent six days. You're very lucky to be up this fast."

She's very lucky to still be alive.

Flowe, District Six's escort and the person who had managed to get Isa into this mess in the first place, rushes into the room and squeals for joy. Her hair, now dyed red and bouncing in the harsh light of the room, tickles Isa as Flowe hugs the sixteenth victor tightly, grinning and holding her hand up for inspection. "Your hand is healed from the nasty burns you got, no scars on your head, and a wig can fix those patches on your scalp. Yes, you're good to meet the victors!"

"The victors?" Isa manages to ask, staring incredulously at Flowe. The escort giggles and takes Doug and Isa towards the hallway, pointing at a larger room to the side of the hospital doors. "They've all been waiting in the lounge to meet _you_! Isn't that wonderful, Isa? Aren't you happy to make friends with your fellow victors?"

Isa remembers the victors and shivers, walking behind Doug as he opens the door to the victors. A few of the careers are huddled around a tablet and look up in surprise when she comes inside of the room. Another boy slowly walks towards Isa with an outstretched arm, a tiny smile hovering on his lips. "... Welcome?"

Isa recognizes Tomas Spool, last year's victor and District Eight's only victor, as the boy. "Hey… I guess."

Caleb Stamos taps his way forward to Isa, his eyes covered with dark shades, but his smile dances with joy as he bumps his cane into Isa. "Welcome to the club. I trust that Doug has sobered himself up for the occasion?"

Isa stares in wonder at Doug, noticing the dark circles under his eyes and the way his hand twitches whenever he speaks. "Doug? Did you stay sober for us? For me?"

Doug nods slowly, his hand twitching a little faster. "I did. And I'll try to keep this way for your tour."

She doesn't like the way her throat chokes up when she hugs Doug, but she wouldn't trade this moment for anything else in the world.

 **.oOo.**

Belinda smiles at Isa when she teeters onto the stage, the high heels she tries to walk in only one wrong step away from snapping. But she makes it to her seat and collapses in relief, her soft lilac dress hugging her body uncomfortably. It's of the same type that she wore at the interviews, but several changes have been made. There are holes in the sides to showcase her tanned skin, and she has jewels encrusted around her neckline as a necklace of sorts. She looks older than she first did here.

"Isa! It's wonderful to see our sixteenth victor today, especially with that dress on! Oh, you're stunning, my girl! Now, tell us about how Douglas reacted to your victory."

Isa gives a shy smile, careful to not spit out anything rude. Words can hurt people. She knows that now, now that she's felt the sting of carefully aimed taunts in the Games. "He was quite surprised. From the footage I watched of him in the mentor's room when I won, he seemed like he didn't expect that to happen." Giovanna didn't expect to lose either.

"Do you believe that there will be any hard feelings from District Nine and Twelve to your victory?"

Isa nods, gulping and looking up at the ceiling. "I suppose so, I did kill their tributes, after all. But I hope that the career districts aren't too angry with me. I tried my hardest to not ruin the alliance, I did try."

Belinda laughs, turning towards the screen as the reapings footage begins playing. "Oh, you still don't know what happened to the alliance! You're in for a treat, my gal."

Isa watches herself be reaped, stiffening in shock before smirking at Tony. He gives the finger and Flowe shrieks in horror, waiting for the escorts to take them away. Other tributes come onto the screen as the pre-Games footage continues rolling, but Isa finds herself at the centre of it all - from the parade, to the interviews, and to the beginning of the Games where she's standing in the light. Others are momentarily given the spotlight - there's Giovanna in the score reveals, Taffeta basking in her parade success, and Cornelia's reveal in the interviews, but the film grimly shows Isa at the centre of it all. She doesn't like it - she doesn't like being at the centre of attention here. Not when she's the only one of them left to tell the story.

The Games begin and the Capitolites gasp as Tony blows up, subtext under the death stating that it was because of a serum administered to the tributes that they were experiencing periodic blindness. She feels a tear in her eye watching her district partner's death, and she quickly rubs it away as the bloodbath continues, Ashrifah queen of it all. She doesn't want to seem weak.

Even if Tony didn't deserve to die like that.

The Games truly begin and Isa watches the beginning of the lies, from Shawn to Bernard, from Taffeta to the careers, and Moon to everyone about how they were going about the Games. Aris drowns in the river and the Marshall and Ryker alliance deems it to be Ashrifah's fault, unaware that it was an accidental drowning. But the climax of these first few days is the storm, where the careers fall down the hole that Moon had worked diligently on - so _that's_ where they had vanished, she mutters to herself - and Keelan and Zora make it out. And then there she is, fighting the wolf and anxiously gazing into the storm to look for her allies. They aren't there, of course, and past Isa soon falls asleep, but she can't help wondering what would have happened if they did return. Would she have won? Would Keelan still lie?

Giovanna realizes what's happened to her eyes and rejoices, allowing Ryker and Marshall to start to take centre stage. Pushed in between shots of Isa patrolling the cornucopia and Bernard making his way to the barn, their storyline of fighting Ashrifah unravels, coming to an abrupt end long after Isa is thrown out of the cornucopia. She watches the families of the final eight gasp in shock when they hear Ryker's cannon, and the way Marshall stumbled away from his former ally. But the Capitolites have deemed that part unimportant, and they quickly move on to Isa walking through the fields, almost finding Zora several times.

The feast finally occurs and she can't help but grin at the way she surprised the other tributes. It had been quite the rush to grab the vial, hadn't it?

The scene where Zora spares Isa is long and drawn out, and Isa can't help but shiver when Zora finally lets her go. Would it have been Zora seated here if she hadn't let Isa go? Or would another tribute have taken the victory?

But as she ponders the question, a grand chase scene between Zora and Keelan before Keelan drops a torch into the water. Then it all blows up, first killing Keelan, then Ashrifah, who was caught off guard by the explosion, then Zora. Isa climbs up to the top of the cornucopia and watches Giovanna and Bernard try to get to the top, Bernard taken down before Isa fights Giovanna and shoves her body into the flames. Then it's over, Belinda starting to talk once more and Isa struggling to keep up with it all. Her mind is still buzzing with a million questions, all which settle except for one. Why?

Why was she chosen? Why was she taken to the Capitol to play this Game, while there were other tributes to reap? Why was the daughter of one of the richest men in Six chosen to die?

An image of Bernard being reaped dances in her brain, his legs struggling to make it to the stage because his brother is making a move to volunteer in the back of the square. He didn't deserve to die.

And then it hits her.

The Games are meant to punish all.

Her mind is a daze for the rest of the interview, and she stutters out a few responses to Belinda's questions until the last question. Belinda smiles at this one and turns towards Isa with a devilish grin, her eyes alight with mischief. "You've mentioned that you knew Tony previously, as did your family, and you had quite an abrasive relationship with him. Was there something… more in your connection to him?"

"Romance, you mean?" Isa grins at the thought and remembers Tony, the way she trailed him and even started up her District Six Community Watch to watch out for people like him. Maybe there was something more. "Yes… you could even call it love."

She smiles as the golden crown, thin and wiry with jewels encrusted into every corner, is lowered onto her head.

She's alive.

Even though twenty-four others died for her to take her place on the throne.

 _ **Taffeta Paisley, 18. Placed 12th.**_

Lace twirls around the dark coffin before her father stops her with a hand on her shoulder, his dark eyes flashing in anger. "You'll not disappoint the family today, Lace."

Lace drops her eyes in shame, looking away from her father and towards Taffeta's coffin. "Yes, father."

The procession continues, Lace taking quick, steady steps next to the pallbearers as the funeral director show where Taffeta will be placed. "This way. now, pallbearers, let's lower the coffin into the grave. There, a little lower, to the right, and let go. Good. Now, you can say something to your dead before we take shovels and bury your friend and daughter."

Lace tears up and bursts out crying, her mother leading her away from the group to cry it out while another family lies their own son to rest. Lace is taken to sit on a bench while her mother hurries back to the group with a pink rose in her hand. Lace can be trusted to sit on the bench without leaving. After all, she is seven.

Lace calms down in a few minutes and whispers a goodbye to her sister, a crushed daisy in her hand that she had planned to drop in Taffeta's grave. Instead, she lets it fly into the wind, where it drifts into the grave of Luxx Mortem.

 _ **Luxx Mortem, 18. Placed 15th.**_

His family only shows up to keep up their image, and Luxx is left to be covered by a few grave diggers in the Mortem family plot. Only one person stays to say goodbye: his twin brother, with his blushing girlfriend waiting at the gates.

Vexx bends down and places a golden clover, made with his own hands in a smithery, onto the sparsely furnished coffin. "Thank you for saving me. Even if I didn't understand at first."

Then he leaves, and Luxx is left alone once more.

All alone.

 _ **Ajax Hollis, 17. Placed 10th.**_

Paris Hollis nods curtly as Ajax is left to be fully buried, reaching an arm around his sobbing wife. "He'll be fine, dear. He did what he had to."

"You should have never pushed him into this stupid game!" Julia snaps at Paris before rushing away in tears, Paris trailing after her in worry. But there's still one left.

Caleb Stamos taps his cane in sorrow and looks with darkened eyes towards the coffin, a little turtle in a carrier in his right hand. Bean squirms around and gives a small cry for her former master, but he doesn't reply.

Corpses never do.

 _ **Zora Stikander, 16. Placed 4th.**_

Slate and Viola allow themselves to cry - after all, Zora was their only child - but they soon wipe away the tears and watch the gravediggers bury their daughter. Slate steps in to shovel a bit of dirt onto the coffin, rolling up his sleeves and coughing in the dusty morning. Viola stands off to the side, fingering a handkerchief and looking around her at the other graves.

She gives a cry of delight as she sees the grave next to her daughter, nudging Slate and pointing him towards the other grave. "Look, dear! Zora has a friend to keep her company!"

The cold body of Jaycen Stone lies next to Zora's, already six feet under the ground. After all, she had died months prior to the Games. Quite a tragic poisoning, but her stone seems to indicate no hard feelings towards the poisoner - even if Jaycen would have disagreed.

Zora's coffin seems to twitch before it gets completely covered by darkness.

 _ **Lincoln Serket, 13. Placed 25th.**_

He lies in the graveyard, his cold fingers outstretched towards his mother on the other side of the city. Codi Weber-Serket lies in an unmarked grave in a small cemetery for unknown deaths, often populated by those from the Ember-villes who had stayed out in the city too long in a cold night.

Many came to visit - after all, the president even made a small speech about his death before the Games, but in the end, Lincoln lies alone in the cemetery. Forgotten by all, forgotten by all but one.

Sophocles Serket lies in a cell in resignation, his thin fingers holding a bar of soap and moulding a soap knife. It won't hurt anyone, but he loves to feel the power of holding a weapon in his hands. Even if it's fake.

A tap on his shoulder turns him to look up, and he gasps as the tattooed thug whom he shares the cell with holds up a rope. "I never did like you, especially when I found out what you did. You, you monster, killed your own son? But that's not the worst thing you've done. Oh, far from it. You killed my nephew, Sophocles. This is for Pollux."

Sophocles screams, but the guards conveniently don't hear him. Perhaps it's the cash inserted in their pockets that keep them quiet.

And soon enough, Sophocles is as well.

 _ **Shawn Andersen, 14. Placed 11th.**_

His parents gather in the house of his deceased grandmother, holding papers and barking at one another angrily. "You were the one who was supposed to gather the troops!"

"No, it was you!"

"You failed us, Sophie."

"No more than you, Vertex."

A peacekeeper breaks down the door and keeps a pistol trained on both of the rebels, his white armour tensed and ready to pounce. "Don't move! You're under arrest for conspiracy against the Capitol!"

Vertex roars and runs towards the peacekeeper, Sophie following behind him with a chair in her hand.

The pistol fires and more guns fire their bullets into the Andersens, leaving the couple to collapse onto the ground. Blood pools onto the carpet of the kitchen, and a shriek comes from upstairs as Shawna Andersen comes running down, her pigtails flying through the air. "Mom? Dad?"

A peacekeeper holds up his hand to keep the others from firing, extending his arm to the girl. "You'll be safe with us. Your parents were trying to kill the President, but I know that _you_ , a good Capitol citizen, would never do such a thing."

Shawna pauses, then nods as she walks towards the peacekeepers.

She never sees her parents' bodies.

 _ **Mira Bevoire, 16. Placed 16th.**_

Jacqueline takes the piece of chocolate cake from the baker, smiling gratefully and hurrying along the sidewalk towards the cemetery. Her high heels click against the sidewalk and she soon reaches the gates, walking through the entrance with the cake and a splendid white rose that shines in the light.

 _Mira Bevoire, thank you for your sacrifice,_ the grave reads, and Jacqueline hides her tears as she lowers the plate onto the ground and places the rose on top of it.

"I should have never left you, my sweet daughter."

The rose flies away with the wind as Jacqueline leaves, up towards the sky. It vanishes into the heavens just as the sun peeks out from the clouds, shining a ray of light onto the girl's grave.

She's finally at peace.

 _ **Keelan Spinnaker, 17. Placed 6th.**_

Misty tears up as the television continues to blare, the tributes racing away from the rising wall of water. "Oh Panem, please be safe. I can't lose you too."

The District Four Male ducks under the spear of the girl from Two and towards the cornucopia, a familiar silver trident in his hand. A thunderous roar comes from behind, and a cannon sounds. A quick change of cameras proves that the girl from Eleven had been caught in the waves, and only the boys from Two and Four reach the cornucopia. There the boy from Four leaps up to the top of the cornucopia, aiming his trident at the boy from Two below him. He breathes once, then twice, then fires.

It flies through the boy from Two and sends him into the waters of the volcanic island, leaving Bastion Cray to stand atop the cornucopia, the victor of the 18th Games

Misty doesn't stop crying until Bastion comes home to wrap her up in his large arms, a scar over his left bicep. "Don't cry, Misty. It was for Keelan."

She chokes back a reply, holding the necklace which she had put Keelan's coin onto. "For Keelan."

 _ **Monique Rivera, 18. Placed 14th.**_

Craig stands at the edge of Monique's grave, tears welling up in his eyes before he turns away, back towards Mags. "Are you happy now?"

"You had to visit her by now, Craig," Mags replies in a husky voice. "You can't block her death out. You still have your other sister. You still have Talisa."

"And she can't volunteer. I won't let her." Craig looks up with a small smile, looking towards the sea. "She'll stay here in Four with us. With me. In the victor's village. I'm not letting Mother and Father plague it, but Talisa needs us."

Mags nods with a sigh, feeling her swollen stomach and smiling in tenderness when she feels a tiny foot kick at the touch. "She'll learn how to defend herself with us."

 _ **Wyatt Blink-Box, 14. Placed 21st.**_

His mother gathers at the front of the factory and pushes a piece of paper to the bored secretary, causing the seated woman to raise her eyebrows and hand a key to Thelma Blink-Box. "I'm sorry for your loss, miss."

Thelma nods and hurries into the vault, searching the long halls for the correct section. She makes it through the As rather quickly and finds the empty slot in the Bs, Wyatt's name emblazoned on a strip of bronze metal on top of a little box in the wall. Thelma takes out the ashes that she had received from the coroner and slides the bag in, placing her hand on the vault with sadness before walking back out.

If Five ever figures out how to bring people back from the dead, Wyatt will be one of them.

 _ **Ashrifah Kayeut, 16. Placed 5th.**_

Fulgar sighs at his daughter's grave, shaking his head before putting down a small poppy, carefully cared for from the garden in front of their home. "I hope you rest in peace, my girl."

And then he leaves, the magnificent grave, paid for by Ashrifah's mother, enshrouded in the smog of the district.

The poppy withers, then dies in a matter of days.

 _ **Tony Dongalls, 17. Placed 24th.**_

Akira lies the urn holding Tony's ashes on the counter, her green eyes still swollen red from tears. Gil is sober and silent in the corner of the room, avoiding Akira's eyes. Their father lies upstairs with a liquor bottle in his hand, avoiding them both.

It's been like this in the Dongalls household for a week now.

With a scream, Akira grabs the first liquor bottle from the floor and throws it outside. It hits the street with a resounding smash, and she smiles grimly before collecting the rest of her father's stash under the kitchen sink. One by one, the bottles come flying out the window, and her father races down the stairs in panic when he hears the shattered glass. "No, no, no, no, you filthy cur, give me those back, give me those back, _give me them back!_ "

She ignores the wails of her father as she empties the contents of the last bottle of beer into the street, pointing down for Gil to see. "Clean it up. Now."

Wide-eyed and surprised, Gil hurries down to the mess before Akira gets angrier, and the young woman turns to her father. "The money. Give me it."

Her father shakes his head, but Akira is resilient. "You're not tearing this family apart again."

Tears streaming from his cheeks, he searches for his hidden wallet and takes it from the cushions of the couch. Akira puts it in her pocket and waves him away, the man hurrying back up the stairs to drunkenly sob and try to take make the most of the few he had kept upstairs.

She'll never let liquor enter this household again.

 _ **Aris Orchards, 16. Placed 13th.**_

Lilian Orchards spends weeks sobbing in her apothecary, ignoring the customers who come to share their condolences for Aris. Then, one bright and sunny day, she lightens up, opening the apothecary once more for customers and selling out all of her herbs the same day.

The customers speculate amongst themselves about the cause of her happiness, but none of them realize what's happened until an unlucky peacekeeper, checking in on every household, finds Lilian's body on the ground with nightlock berries in her cold, pale hand.

Shep spends the rest of his days at the train station, patiently waiting for Aris to come home. Some urchins entice him to come visit them for a matter of days, but he eventually seems to disappear around the 21st Games. Perhaps he was finding a place to die, or he went off with the Tonni, those fantastical merchants who travel Seven.

But whatever the case, Aris' grave is left untouched.

 _ **Ryker Underwood, 18. Placed 8th.**_

Sabrina and Bella start to talk with one another weeks after Ryker's death. Before then, they hadn't spoken a word since Ryker's cannon had fired, silently hiding in their rooms and mourning the loss of Bella's twin and Sabrina's boyfriend. They soon become good friends, and years later, Bella walks down the aisle to her husband while her maid of honour, Sabrina, follows behind.

Bella's first baby is a girl, and she names her Sabrina. The second is a boy, and she tearfully names him Ryker. Ryker often visits his auntie Sabrina on Saturdays, questioning her about his long-lost uncle and listening to Sabrina's talk about how he's the spitting image of him.

Sabrina never marries, staying single and living her days by taking care of orphaned children and working in the apothecary. She never gets over her love for Ryker.

And she never regrets her choice.

 _ **Nehemiah Bunting, 15. Placed 22nd.**_

Samson breaks down as he sees his son taken off of the train, rushing to the coffin and stroking the dark, polished wooden casing. "Oh, Hem, I should never have let you go."

He stays by the coffin until Hem is buried, a few people coming to visit the funeral service, including the little boy named Rob who Hem had helped in the prison. Samson smiles through his tears at the small boy, the child's red cheeks solemn and quiet. "Remember him, for me, will you?"

Rob nods, and then walks off with his parents towards home. Maybe tomorrow he'll bring a flower for Nehemiah. Yes, a bright white tulip for the nice boy who had helped him in the truck. But first, he wants to go home. He's feeling tired today.

 _ **Hollister Cuero, 14. Placed 23rd.**_

Her father never visits her grave - maybe he feels too guilty about the way he raised her to go, or he just doesn't care enough about his only daughter to visit her - but Hollister doesn't seem to mind. After all, her face still bears the sweet, calm expression that she had when she died, smiling at those who come to her funeral - including a few workers from her factory.

She's buried next to Hem, with her inscription reading that she deserved so much more than what she got.

It's true, but she's content where she is now. It's more peaceful than Panem.

 _ **Paxton Webb, 13. Placed 18th.**_

His family weeps for weeks and give him a large gravestone, the best that they can afford, but they eventually forget him in the tribute graveyard of Nine.

And no one ever comes to his grave, except a paid maintenance worker who whistles as he clears the leaves out of the graveyard and trims the grass. He sometimes passes by Pax's grave, but that's only because the grass is too long there.

The words on his gravestone eventually wear away, leaving an unmarked grave in its place.

 _ **Giovanna Fillinfini, 18. Placed 2nd.**_

Hadley sobs in her room as Trisha pounds the door, her shrieks leaving Hadley unresponsive. "Let me in! I _want_ you, Hadley!"

"But I can't help you!" she screams back, throwing a pillow at the door. "Go ask Lennon!"

Trisha leaves her position at the door, presumably to ask Lennon to help her with her hair tie, and Hadley rocks herself on the small bed. When she knows that Trisha is gone, she pulls out her picture of Giovanna and traces her outline. "I'm sorry that I can't be better."

She shakes her head in anger and tucks away the picture under her mattress, clenching her fists in resolution. From now on, she'll be just like Giovanna - the perfect caregiver to her sister.

It might not be the best thing she can do for her big sister, but it's the only one she can try.

 _ **Marshall Furr, 16. Placed 7th.**_

Connor Furr dies in his sleep unexpectedly three months after Marshall returns home, the coroner deeming it a stroke. As the family carries his coffin to the Furr family graveyard, Joshua Furr stumbles in a rut and the coffin falls to the ground. It lands perfectly, but none of the Furrs pay attention as they rush to their father, their husband, their only protector left. Grace is the first to reach him, caressing his brow and pushing away his dark brown hair. "Are you alright?"

"No. I'm not." He looks away bitterly and Grace hugs him, the twins squeezing in and starting to sob.

They remain in the same position for the next few minutes, just the Furrs against the world.

 _ **Carol Farrier, 13. Placed 19th.**_

Carol is dressed in a stunning white dress gifted to the Farriers from the Capitol, and she is laid to rest in the large tribute graveyard on the side of the capital city of Ten. With tears and final goodbyes, Tessa Farrier says goodbye to her daughter before her coffin is lowered into the hole, gravediggers quickly covering the body and letting it rest.

Every week, the family visits Carol to say goodbye once more and leave flowers. Sometimes they bring little letters to Carol, but more often than not it's just the flowers.

Carol always did like routine. And flowers.

 _ **Cornelia Fields, 13. Placed 20th.**_

Ryan looks at the grave and bites his lip nervously, turning to his wife with an uneasy glance. "Are you sure we should do this?"

"I'm sure." Lilac tears up as she looks at her son's grave, bending down on one knee and touching the grave. "It's what he - it's what _she_ would have wanted, Ryan. Sumac, come over here and say goodbye to your sister."

Sumac walks from the grave of Pepper Maywell and to his family, nodding quickly and moving closer to his mother. "I'm glad you had Cornel...lia."

Then they lean against one another and look down at the grave, reading the words imprinted on the gravestone.

 _Here lies Cornelia Fields._

 _A loving son._

 _A loving daughter._

 _ **Pepper Maywell, 16. Placed 17th.**_

Peara never is reaped for the Games, and grows up to be a hardworking woman. She marries one of the boys from her high school and has two girls, both of them proudly bearing the middle name of Pepper. She rises to be an overseer in the orchards and lives comfortably in one of the houses near the orchard. Her husband, however, is rebellious and longs for more than his normal life. He's caught and executed for stealing fruit from the orchard when his second child is three, leaving Peara all alone.

But she'll be fine.

After all, Pepper raised her to be strong.

 _ **Bernard Hancock, 12. Placed 3rd.**_

The family sings as they carry Bernard to his final resting place, a low, mourning tune that the miners hum as they walk off to the mines each morning. Marshall blinks back tears and brings Bernard to the shaft, the family gathering around the edges before they drop Bernard's body in.

The dynamite at the bottom of the mine shaft explodes as promised and Bernard turns to ash, mingling with the other tributes from District Twelve. There's no room in the district for a graveyard, but there's plenty of mines to let explosives go off in.

And it's the perfect place to bury Moon as well.

 _ **Moon**_ _ **Kraków, 17. Placed 9th.**_

Grandmother Leah rocks back and forth in her chair with her knitting needles, calling out to her daughter. "Poppy! Come here and give me some tea!"

Poppy doesn't answer, which is understandable. She's currently working in the mines, after all. Grandmother Leah clicks her tongue in shame and continues knitting, the blanket turning a brilliant shade of black. "If Moon was still here, she would have listened. But eh, she's long gone now, may she rest in peace. I'll continue working on this for the children."

She continues to rock back and forth, her eyes closed and her face content.

Her family may come and go, but Leah will stay in the same chair until she's old enough to have forgotten her age.

 **Selena Arthtome, 27, Assistant Gamemaker**

She gathers up the last of the papers and walks away from her desk, the Control Room dark. The cleanup of the arena is finally over, yet she still has a few more weeks of paperwork and a bid for the 19th Games to cover with Hiram. After all, wasted minutes won't allow her to keep her position as game maker, only hard work will. Corey will have to wait a few more hours for his aunt to come back home.

A noise in the background causes her to look behind her, then relax as she sees Hiram. He shouldn't be here, it's his day off, after all, yet he might be working more on his bid for the next Games or something. He's been working hard.

But she doesn't see a computer in his hands, but rather a phone that he's talking urgently into. She cranes her ears to eavesdrop on the conversation, and smiles in delight as she listens in. "The room will be going down soon… yes, they have no idea… we'll be able to take it back, soon enough. … ha, how did you think I killed the lights in the interviews?"  
She gasps, taking a step towards Hiram. "You? You broke the lights there?"

Hiram drops the phone in surprise and backs away from Selena, his hands raised into the air in submission. "It's - it's not what you think it is."

Selena looks behind him and noticed bright red objects surrounding certain computers and data programs, including the security cameras in the room.

 _Dynamite._

"Oh, I'm pretty sure it is. But why are you doing it? And did you kill the boy from Three? What else have you done, you _monster_?" Selena wouldn't admit it, but she almost… _likes_ the fact that Hiram is the villain. Something about the way that he had been so abusive to all of the game makers, the way her mind painted him as a villain to her, it all makes sense now. It's like the universe has clicked into place.

"I didn't kill the boy from Three. I tried to kill the girl from Eleven, though." Hiram glares at Selena and points at the rest of the room, one camera in particular. Shawn's camera. "You know why the boy from Three even had a chance of rebelling? You know why he was building that machine? He was trying to escape. I sent him the parts, you thought it was just a strange sponsor. Not even Ember knew. I'm at the top, Selena."

"Not anymore." Selena points up at the security camera, the red light blinking rapidly as it records the two game makers. "You'll be slaughtered in the hour, Hiram."

"Not if I burn it first." Flames seem to appear in Hiram's eyes as he grabs a stick of dynamite, and Selena notices the lighter in his hand for the first time. She backs away to the exit, putting her hands up in surrender. "I'll - I'll run and tell. You'll still be caught. I've got a tape recorder in my pocket right now, and it's running."

She hopes to Panem that he doesn't demand to see the recorder. Because if he does, all she has to show him is a pocket full of lint.

Hiram's face falls, then lights back up again as he stares at his protegé. "You _are_ quite the resourceful girl. I knew it from the time you started making the arena. It almost makes me regret pinning this all on you to peacekeepers with my fabricated evidence. They'll be here soon."

"Wait, what?" Selena starts to ask, but Hiram continues to talk. He doesn't even notice her anymore as he gazes down at the dynamite, his silver hair sticking up from his head like blades of grass.

"The rebels will be disappointed, but at least I tried. I even have Ember convinced that I'm good, although that will all go to waste, now. You've caught me. But they won't." He lights the stick of dynamite, the fire in his eyes starting up once more as he walks towards the rest of the explosives. "You better run if you want to live."

"No, drop the dynamite! Come over here!" Selena yells, taking a step towards Hiram in panic.

If he dies, her life is over as well.

Hiram shakes his head, waving Selena away. "You have much to live for, Selena. Go. But remember one thing for me: don't live your life in regret, in hatred. If you knew why I'm doing this, you'd understand. Now run. You have time! Run, you fool!"

Selena takes a desperate look back at the game maker and the almost burnt out stick of dynamite, then runs through the door. She dives behind the wall of the hallway just as the stick explodes, then scrambles into the next room as the walls come ricocheting into the hallway. Further and away from the explosion she runs, but she feels the heat of the flames on her burnt back until she makes it through the door out of the building. She looks wildly around, searching for peacekeeper trucks coming towards the huge game making building on fire.

There are not.

Yet.

She half runs, half wheezes her way to the tramway, then shows her identification to the bus driver as she flops down in a seat near the back of the tram. There she sits as more passengers enter the tram, an old lady with a floppy hat sitting next to Selena. "My, my, dear, you smell positively burnt. The makeup you young people use these days is horrible. And is your hair _scorched_?"

Selena ignores the woman as the tram races through the city, lights dancing as Selena watches the buildings of the Capitol's downtown section fly by. Soon the bus stops, and Selena turns to the old woman before she exits the bus and into her neighbourhood. "Could I borrow your hat?"

Fifty eight sesterces and a promise to personally bring the old woman's sponsor money to the mentors that Selena won't be able to keep later, she exits the bus with her floppy hat and enters her walkway. The door opens easily and she calls to her nephew. "Cory! Get down here!"

Cory appears at the top of the stairs with a bagel in his hand, his expression puzzled. "What's wrong, Aunt Selena?"

"I've been framed. We need to leave. Now."

Cory doesn't dare to question Selena when he sees her scorched hair, running into his room to stuff clothes into a book bag that he would have used to carry books to his university tomorrow. Meanwhile, Selena ties her hair up in a bun and gathers clothes and sesterces as well, leaving all of her identification behind. It's good that she knows a forger on the other side of the city. She just has to be quick and avoid the peacekeepers, and they can start anew. No one will be able to pin the explosion on her, no one will be able to use the evidence that Hiram gathered against her.

They both run down the bright red-carpeted stairs together, Selena taking an apple to eat along the way as they walk out the door. "We'll go through the back way."

Cory nods, and follows his aunt through the hedged pathway as sirens start sounding near the neighbourhood. Whatever Hiram did, he's been quick about it. And he's not even here to confess his guilt anymore.

They quickly move through the park behind their house and scare a mockingjay out of the maple tree it's seated in as they hurry to the subway, Selena quickly reaching the sidewalk once more and heading down the dark grey stairs. "You ready to go?"

Cory nods, and they dash down to the subway as a train whirs into view. Selena tosses a few sesterces at the ticket-woman and grabs the tickets, hurrying onto the train before it starts to leave. She holds onto the rusty-red coloured handle at the top of the subway, Cory taking a seat as they move through the city and towards the forger's shop. They don't speak to one another until they're once more into the street, Selena pointing to a beauty parlour to the right of them. "We'll get haircuts first."

Thirty minutes later, they walk out with shorter hair and green dye jobs. Selena's glad that her only identifying feature is the tattoos on her ankle - if she was sporting antlers like a few of her fellow Capitolites, she'd be caught much easier.

But now, all she needs is a new identification card, and she can start anew.

As she walks into the shop, a clerk turns around and notices Selena's panicked expression. "You need something?"

She feels a wave of emotion run over her as she opens her mouth, a longing for her old life washing over her. The word for it is hiraeth, a longing for a home that she can never return to.

Thanks to Hiram, who framed her.

Thanks to the Capitol, who wouldn't pay attention to her pleas for mercy.

Thanks to the peacekeepers, who were hunting down Selena Arthtome.

Thanks to President Ember, who would kill her without thinking - or worse, avox her.

No, she can't return back home.

But she can do better than that.

"My name is Selena Snow, and this is my nephew Coriolanus Snow. We'd like identification cards and licenses with the same names, please."

She can get revenge.

 **And with that, Distorted is finished. I know, I know, there is no victory tour and return home for Isa, but that will be… explained in a future story. Don't worry, if you stay with me, you'll eventually see it.**

 **A big thanks to all of the submitters who decided that my prologue and the first few reaping chapters showed something that was interesting, exciting enough to send your 25 babies in to me. It was amazing looking after all of them, and even if I ended up letting 24 die, I got Isa back to 66samvr! 1/25 ain't that bad!**

 **As well as that, a bigger thanks to those who reviewed this story and stuck with me all the way. I really enjoyed hearing your thoughts (and can't wait to see your future ones about this chapter; I hope that a few of you leave biggish reviews although small ones are perfectly fine hehe)**

 **In the end, I enjoyed writing this story. The first chapters might be a bit basic (to me they look like the worst writing man can stumble across) but I think it's a sign of how far I've come. Writing Distorted allowed me to meet new friends, develop my skills, and just fall into a really nice community that I'm glad to be a part of. So to everyone who talked with me, sent in a tribute, or even said something that made me smile in the reviews, thank you. I hope I lived up to your standards for this epilogue!**

 **(And if you don't think the Snow twist is epic, I will be very peeved with you, as I've planned that since FEBRUARY)**

 **Once again, thanks to you all, and if you want to see more of my writing, check out Hiraeth! The tribute list will come out with a blog made by the amazing mysticalpineforest in the next few days, and I'm really excited to start working on that SYOT. So go check that out!**

 **For the last time (omg I'm emotional this is the last time I'll ever write Distorted and that's so SAD), TheAmazingJAJ**


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